


Lessons Learned

by the_purple_pen



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Original Fiction, Originally Posted on LiveJournal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 08:44:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16678342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_purple_pen/pseuds/the_purple_pen
Summary: A lonely professor has a secret crush on his student and his student has a secret of his own.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: We do not own them. We do not make any money from them. We just borrow their beautiful images for our fantasies. Summary: RPS, completely AU, Orlando and Eric are aged down for this story. Inspired by our love for the boys and New Orleans. Written in present tense.

Eric likes Tuesdays and Thursdays. He likes his nine thirty class. He likes the boy who sits in the back row by the window. It’s been less than a month into classes and already he finds himself looking forward to seeing the smiling brown eyes, dark curls and lithe body. He likes it when he hears the sound of the young man's laughter even before he sees him; those mornings when he's talking and joking with other students as he enters the classroom. He likes the British accent on the rare occasion when the dark-eyed beauty has ventured to ask a question in class. 

Here he sits. Dr. Eric Bana. A thirty-two year old PhD in Literature. A sixth year professor on track for tenure with Loyola. A published author. And yet he has a school boy crush on one of his students. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Like the annoying blond he had last year who wrote him love notes in sugary sweet prose and kept insisting they "get together to discuss his last book". 

He's been reduced to the role of a pathetic Nabokov character pining away for the young subject of his infatuation. It's the stuff great novels are made of yet living it isn't exactly what he's ever had in mind for himself. Eric lifts his gaze to the back row and sighs when he sees the dark head bent over his first test of the semester. Orlando Bloom. His personal Lolita.

Eric looks at his watch. Class is almost over and only two students remain. Orlando is one of them. He takes the opportunity to observe him as he works on his test. The long, slender fingers threaded through the dark hair as he leans over his paper. The lower lip as it's worried between his teeth as he concentrates. It's not as if the boy has ever done anything to encourage Eric's infatuation. He's always friendly, polite and he makes it to class on time, but nothing more.

Orlando looks up and Eric drops his gaze to the stack of papers on the desk in front of him. He clears his throat before he says, "Five minutes.” the warning that their time is almost up.

Orli looks up, startled by the professor's voice breaking the silence. Panicked he looks down at his essay, the margin of the paper filled with hastily jotted reminders about topics left to cover. Cracking his knuckles he bends back over the paper and writes as fast as he can, his pencil flying over the pages of the blue book. He isn't entirely sure it will be legible, but he compromises between neatness and the need to get all his thoughts down in the blue book.

He thumps out the last period just as the professor calls time and he drops his pencil on the desk and flops back in the chair. He's the only one left in the room now, and when he looks up at the front of the lecture hall he sees that Dr. Bana has his things collected and is clearly just waiting for the last exam to be returned so he can be on his way. 

"Sorry 'bout that," Orli says with an exhausted smile. "Too many ideas in my head I guess." He twists sideways out of the uncomfortably shaped desk and bounds down the stairs to the front of the room. "Hopefully you can read my writing," he says as he hands over his booklet.

Eric glances down at the neatly written name and date on the front of the blue book. "I'm sure I can manage. I have some experience in deciphering handwriting," he smiles. "So? The first test? Daunting or a slam dunk?" he asks as he stows the stack of tests into his leather case.

"First tests are always daunting," Orli answers honestly, leaning casually against the last desk in the first row. "Trying to feel out what a prof wants and expects. What they like, what their pet peeves are and so on. Kinda like a first date," he laughs.

Eric chuckles and nods his head. "Good analogy. Hopefully you will do well and there will be a second date." He turns his attention toward the door as students for the next class begin to file into the classroom. "Time to go," he smiles.

"Still a couple of weeks until the drop date, in case I totally bombed," Orli laughs. As the classroom starts to fill, Orli starts back up the stairs to gather his things. "Looks like you have a long weekend of grading ahead of you," he smiles. "Try not to work too hard."

"I'll try. But don't worry, I'll get to yours first." Eric tilts the leather carrying case so that Orlando can see inside. "See? Right on top," he says with teasing grin.

"Have a good weekend," Orli says with a wave as he slips out of the classroom and into the swell of students that fill the hallway.

"You, too," replies Eric as Orlando disappears into the crowd of students. Winding his way through the throng, he makes his way to his office and wishes that it wasn't so long until next Tuesday morning.

~*O*~

"One cafe au lait and one order of beignets, please," Eric tells the waiter. The smell of French doughnuts wafting through the patio is too tempting to wait for the arrival of his friend. 

Eric slips on his sunshades and relaxes back into the small iron chair at the Cafe du Monde. It's a gorgeous Saturday morning in New Orleans. Late September and an uncharacteristic break in the usual heat and humidity has The Quarter filled with people who are out and about and enjoying the weather.

Gerry sidesteps a tourist who stops in the middle of the sidewalk to take a picture and nearly takes out another group of giggling girls watching a street performer who is juggling along the fence surrounding Jackson Square. He deems it a victory that he makes it across the street and he holds up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun as he scans the bustling tables for a glimpse of Eric.

Spotting his friend as he crosses the street, Eric raises his arms and waves. "Gerry! Over here!"

Hearing Eric before he actually sees him, Gerry slips between the tables and finally finds a familiar face. "Hey," he says as he slips into a chair. "Looks like tourist season is still in full swing."

"When is it _not_ tourist season?" Eric laughs. "Football season in full swing. And Halloween is just around the corner. I bet you're planning your costume for the parade as we speak?" he asks with a wide grin.

"Can I go as a washed up English professor? I think I'm equipped for that." Gerry looks up as the waitress slides a cup of coffee and a plate full of sugary goodness onto their table. "Thanks for ordering."

"You're welcome," laughs Eric as he pays for the beignets and coffee. He asks the waitress to bring another order, watching Gerry as he begins to devour one of the new arrivals. "And what do you mean 'washed up'?" he asks as he snags one of the sugar covered doughnuts from the plate before Gerry can get to it.

"Just a random bout of melancholy," Gerry laughs. "Something about the passing of another summer and no summer romance to speak of."

"You do know why that is, don't you?" Eric gives his friend a knowing look from across the small table.

"No," Gerry answers warily, picking off a piece of his beignet and popping it into his mouth.

Eric narrows his eyes, his lips curving into a smile as he stares into his friend's mischievous green eyes. "Liar."

"Because I'm getting old?" Gerry sighs, sinking back in his chair.

"Thirty-six is not old."

"In gay years it is. Anything over thirty is ancient history." Gerry cradles the coffee cup in his hand, watching the steam rise into the air.

"And this is the reason that you have a different man in your bed every night?" Eric gives him a skeptical look before taking another bite of his beignet.

"Hey now," Gerry laughs.

"Sorry. The 'chasing my lost youth' excuse doesn't fly with me any more. I'm getting old, too, remember?" Eric smiles then licks the powdery white sugar from his fingers.

"Ok," Gerry sighs. "So what's the answer then?" Finishing the last of his beignet, Gerry wipes his fingers on a napkin, rather than lick them as his friend likes to do.

"Pick one. Anyone. Someone. Someone you like. Get to know him. Let him get to know you."

Gerry smiles and crosses his legs, knowing too much about his friend to let that one go by. "Do as I say, not as I do?"

"I've had relationships. I just don't have one _now_ ," Eric retorts, glaring at Gerry as the waitress arrives with the second order.

"I have relationships," Gerry smiles, always entertained by getting under Eric's skin. "Mine just tend to be brief. And nocturnal."

Eric waits until the waiter is out of earshot before he replies. "A fuck in the back room at one of the bars on St. Ann does not a relationship make."

"Depends on your definition of relationship. It's all in the semantics. As an aspiring tenured English professor you should know that, good Sir." Gerry says in his best upper crust accent.

"Duly noted," Eric concedes with a slight bow of his head. "A fuck in the back room at one of the bars on St. Ann does not a summer romance make." Eric gives Gerry his best smile before biting into another beignet. "Fucking isn't romance," he mumbles around his mouthful. "Although, I think I'd settle for one of those back room flings right about now."

"Fucking in the back of a bar can lead to romance." Gerry points out. "If you do it right."

Eric's mouth drops open for a moment as he gives Gerry an incredulous look. "If you say so," he murmurs, still staring at Gerry over the rim of his coffee cup as he takes a sip of the cafe au lait.

"So you've been a bit short of back room partners of late?" Gerry heard the touch of wistfulness in Eric's voice even though he is trying to be flippant.

"I'm not as enthusiastic about back room romances as you seem to be," replies Eric. "The sensitive writer type, don't you know," he adds with a touch of sarcasm.

"Well if you ever find yourself in enough need that you consider _lowering your standards_ ," Gerry says, mocking Eric's playful sarcasm, "I have just the thing to help you out."

"Oh no, not another one of those parties..."

"No," Gerry says, shaking his head. "No parties. This is much more discrete. _Individualized attention_. If you get my drift."

The blank look on Eric's face relays the fact that he clearly does not. "Discrete?"

"Rent boys?" Gerry whispers, leaning in close.

Eric's eyes go wide with surprise. "You mean a _prostitute_?" he asks, his voice a high squeak.

"Do you want to get laid or not?" Gerry stays in close, mindful of how loud Eric said the word prostitute. "They are very discrete and very, _very_ talented."

"You actually pay someone. To have sex with you." Eric says breathlessly.

"When I have to, yes. It's so uncomplicated. No wining. No dining. Just fucking."

"But it's illegal, Gerry. What if you were caught?" Eric looks around nervously as if he's expecting to be arrested just for talking about it.

"You worry too much. No wonder you aren't getting laid. Much too uptight." Gerry digs his wallet out of his back pocket and thumbs through it until he finds the plain black business card he is looking for. "Here. Just in case you change your mind."

Eric takes the black card and stares at it as if he's never seen a business card before. Ever. "It's just a phone number."

"Well they can't really put 1-800-RENT BOY on the card, can they?"

Eric shakes his head and looks back at the card. "And if I call this... what happens?"

"A very professional, clean, hot, young man shows up at your door. After that, it's up to you." Gerry drains the last of the coffee from his cup and sets it aside.

Eric leans in closer. "How much does it cost?" he whispers.

"You can afford it." Gerry knows Eric isn't hurting for money, and that his friend is just looking for any excuse to say no.

"No, I don't think this is for me." Eric starts to hand the card back to Gerry who shakes his head and won't take it.

"Maybe it's not for you right now, but it might be right for you some day. You hang on to that." Gerry folds his arms across his chest, resolute in his decision not to take the card back.

"Oh, fine then." Eric takes out his wallet and slides the card inside it. "I won't use it, you know."

"Of course not," Gerry says with a knowing smile.

 

~*O*~*O*~

 

Eric stares at the blue book that is filled with Orlando Bloom's answers to the test. He pushes the book aside with a heavy sigh then leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. 

_Why couldn't he be dumb as a rock? Why does he have to be gorgeous **and** intelligent?_

The easy smile and dark eyes quickly fill Eric's mind. And the skin. The smooth, tan skin that makes Eric's fingers tingle with want to touch it. Eric's cock twitches with just the mental image of Orlando and he groans in frustration. This irrational crush is quickly becoming an obsession. 

Opening his eyes, Eric gets to his feet and walks to the open French doors that lead to his sun room. The milder weather is a welcome change from the stifling heat of the past summer. He knows the break in the heat is only temporary and that there will be high temperatures again soon, all the more reason to take advantage of the cool breeze tonight. If only it would help to cool the burning inside.

_Get a grip, Eric. He's just a student._

_A beautiful, desirable student._

Eric turns to go back inside, maybe a drink would help. 

_No. Not a drink. What had the counselor told him? Think it through. Channel it. That's what he'd said. Channel it._

He could channel it into his writing. Put his desire into a new book. A pathetic older professor lusting after his too young, but extremely hot student.

_Damn. A whiskey sounded better._

Eric goes into his kitchen. He can't keep liquor in the house, so he grabs a Coke instead. Popping open the can, he leans against the kitchen counter as he takes a healthy swallow of the cold soda. He takes another drink then turns to set the can on the counter when he spots his wallet. And the edge of the black business card that Gerry gave him sticking out of it.

Reaching for the card, Eric slowly slides it out of his wallet and stares at the numbers printed in metallic gold ink. 

He reaches for his cell phone lying on the counter next to his wallet and dials the number. A soft, feminine voice answers.

"Yes... uh... a friend gave me this number." Eric clenches his eyes shut and tries to hear the quiet response over the sound of his own heart beating loudly in his ears. 

"A boy. I mean, a man. Young. But not _too_ young..." Eric shakes his head in disbelief that he is actually doing this. "Hair? I don't know... wait. Dark hair. Dark brown. And dark eyes." Eric runs a hand back through his own dark hair as he listens and awaits the next question.

"I live in the Garden District. 1310 Carondelet Street. Yes. Tonight." 

Eric exhales a shaky breath as he hits the end call button and silently vows to either thank Gerry or kill him dead.

~*O*~*O*~*O*~

Orli cranks the radio higher and flips on the hair dyer, the thumpity thump of the bass vibrating up through his feet as his tiny apartment shakes. He's had it up to here with his crazy neighbors so he could care less about annoying them at the moment. He picks at his hair, trying to get the unruly curls under control, using the hair dryer as a gun to whip them into submission. 

He sighs and gives up, deciding to go more for the rumpled cute look tonight and just runs his fingers through his hair and leaves it be. He tosses his wet towel over the shower rod and walks naked into his room. His “going out” clothes are shoved over to the left and he digs back in the corner to find his black jeans. He pairs them with a brilliantly white shirt and slides into his shoes. A dash of cologne and a glance at the clock on his cell phone and he's out the door.

Tapping his fingers on the back of the seat, Orli watches the houses go by as the streetcar rumbles down St. Charles. His own reflection stares back at him with each passing street light and he thinks about the piles of homework he has waiting for him at home. But he needs this too, and the balance is always a difficult one. So many priorities in his life and so few hours in the day. He can see his stop approaching so he pulls the cord and slides out of his seat. He hops down to the curb and waits for the streetcar to move on before crossing the street

He checks the time on his cell phone again and heads up the stairs of the imposing white house, ringing the doorbell then leaning against one of the pillars.

The door opens and the man standing inside blinks and looks around as if he's expecting someone else.

"Orlando? What… what are you doing here?"

As practiced as Orli is, he still finds it a struggle to keep his face calm and composed. "I'm working," he answers diplomatically, trying to calculate the odds of finding himself on his English professor's porch.

"You shouldn't be here. I'm expecting someone..." Eric looks beyond Orlando's shoulder to the street then goes silent as he looks at the young man standing in front of him. The skin tight clothes and the confident stance. "You're working," he says quietly as he slowly begins to understand.

Orli nods and shoves aside his discomfort, letting his "work" personality take over. He relaxes his face into a seductive smile and hooks his thumbs in his belt loops. "I am. Unless you want me to leave..."

"Leave?" parrots Eric. "No. Don't leave," he says as he steps aside to allow Orlando inside.

Orli smiles and saunters past the other man, feeling Eric's eyes on him as he moves. "Dark hair, dark eyes... I am what you ordered, right?"

 _Heaven help me._

Eric nods his head in reply and closes the door. "Orlando..." Eric's voice sounds like it’s being raked over gravel. He clears his throat and tries again. "I had no idea when I called that number that it would be... you."

"And I had no idea when I rang the bell it would be you. But it is what it is, right? We both know why I'm here, so you might as well relax and enjoy the evening." _After all,_ Orli thinks to himself, _you’re paying handsomely for it._

"No. Orlando... I can't. I'm your professor. You're my student!" Eric shakes his head, struggling to make some sense of this surreal encounter with the object of his fantasies standing right in front of him. In the flesh. "I can't believe this is happening. I've never done this sort of thing before..." He looks up to see the slight smirk of disbelief on Orlando's lips. "I don't expect you to believe me, but it's the truth. And I certainly didn't expect that someone I knew would show up. A student! _My_ student!"

"Shhhh," Orli says pressing a finger to Eric's lips. "Don't think, just do," he whispers and replaces his finger with his lips.

Eric closes his eyes, a whimper escaping as Orlando kisses him. So warm and soft. Sweet and satiny. Better than his fantasy.

Orli can feel the reluctance fade from Eric's body as the kiss deepens and he feels safe breaking the kiss, confident now that Eric won't bolt from the doorway. "There. That's better."

Eric blinks. No. Not a dream. His Lolita is really there. Standing in his hallway. "Oh boy, I need a drink," he murmurs.

Taking Eric's hand, Orli leads him into the house. "That we can do," he says, smiling over his shoulder. "Which way to the liquor cabinet?"

"No... we can't." Eric pulls back on Orlando's hand as they enter the living room.

Confused, Orli stops short. It's on the tip of his tongue to ask "why not?" but he's learned in his line of work to be adaptable and not ask too many questions. "Okay, so no drink. Keeping a hold of Eric's hand, Orli leans against the arm of the sofa and pulls the other man in close enough to rest his free hand on his thigh.

Orlando's touch burns him through the fabric of his pants and Eric stares into the smiling brown eyes, leaning closer as if pulled by a magnetic attraction. "I can't believe you're here," he whispers.

"Well you did call and order me," Orli teases gently, letting his fingers slowly crawl up Eric's leg.

Orlando doesn't realize just how true his words really are. "Yes. I did," Eric rasps as he lifts his hand to tuck a dark curl behind Orlando's ear then gently caress his cheek.

"Just have to deal with the ugly little money part of things and then we can be on to a great evening," Orli says, turning his face into Eric's touch.

 _Money. Yes, of course._

"Sorry." Eric gives a stilted smile, his hand dropping back to his side. "I’m new to the protocol," he apologizes as he pulls several folded bills from his pants pocket.

Orli thumbs through the bills quickly, the efficiency of much practice evident, and stuffs them in his pocket. The "business" part taken care of, he can focus now on making sure Eric gets his money's worth. "So tell me," he practically purrs, returning his fingers to their gentle stroking of Eric's thighs, "what do you like?"

Eric swallows hard, certain that Orlando can hear the loudness of it, too. "I like you," he replies as he covers one of Orlando's hands with his own. He knows that the gorgeous boy in front of him is expecting more information than his simple response, but Eric has to be careful. How can he tell Orlando all the things that he's imagined doing with him in the past weeks since the young beauty first appeared in his classroom?

Shifting up onto his feet, Orli moves in closer until their hips are pressed together. "Ok I'm good, but I'm not a mind reader," he smiles. "Top? Bottom? Fast? Slow? Hard? Soft?"

Right down to business. Eric's hands shift until they are resting on Orlando's slender hips. "I like to top. And with you..." He pulls Orlando closer, the evidence of his growing arousal pressing against Orlando's abdomen. Eric's dreamed of a moment like this, too much to rush through it now that his fantasy has turned into reality. "I'd like to take it slow."

Orli nods, and curves his hips into Eric's grasp. "That I can do," he whispers. His fingers worry at the buttons on Eric's shirt, slowly popping them open one by one.

Eric inhales deeply, breathing in Orlando's scent. The fragrance of cologne, yes, and some kind of fruit from his shampoo. Lime? No, green apple. But beneath that is a fresher aroma. Like sunshine or the air after a spring rain. He watches silently as the long nimble fingers finish with his shirt buttons then, gazing into Orlando's eyes when he lifts his head. "You're beautiful," he says quietly.

"Thank you," Orli murmurs demurely, knowing better than to take the compliment as anything other than part of the fantasy they are dancing through. He pushes Eric's shirt apart, revealing the broad expanse of chest, strong and warm under his fingers.

Shrugging his shoulders, Eric keeps his gaze fixed on Orlando as he removes his shirt and drapes it over a nearby chair. "I never would have guessed you were a..." Eric swallows hard again, unable to finish the thought.

"A whore?" Orli says, not wanting to sugarcoat the situation. "The best ones never look like it," he smiles as he gracefully slides to his knees in front of Eric, his lips just inches from the straining fabric between his legs.

"So are you the best, Orlando?" Eric asks as his fingers ghost over his soft hair.

"Call me Orli," he says, "and yes." Leaning forward, Orli gently mouths the outline of Eric's cock through his pants. He can feel Eric sway toward him in response and he uses his hands to steady the other man's hips.

"Orli," whispers Eric. Fitting. A different name for the different person his fantasy turned out to be.

Sliding his thumbs over Eric's hipbones, Orli dips the tips of his fingers beneath the waistband of Eric's pants as he continues to trace his lips along the jutting length of Eric's arousal. Sitting back on his heels, he looks up at the other man's face. "Is there somewhere we can get more... comfortable?"

Eric nods, holding his hand out for Orli to take. "Upstairs," he tells him before leading Orli out of the living room and up the giant staircase. His bedroom door is open; the enormous antique four poster bed is visible from the hallway as he leads his guest into the room.

"Wow," Orli murmurs as they come to a stop in the bedroom. "This is a nice place you have here."

"It's home," replies Eric, his hand sliding out of Orli's and around his slender waist to begin walking him slowly toward the bed. He's imagined this beautiful boy in his bed so many times that the act seems instinctual.

Orli lets Eric take the lead, relaxing back onto the bed when he feels it hit the back of his legs. He digs in his pocket and extracts the condoms and lube he always carries with him when he's working and tosses them on the bed where they'll be within easy reach.

Leaning over him, Eric captures Orli's mouth for another kiss, slow and tender, as he memorizes the taste and feel.

Sliding his hands slowly down Eric's back, Orli appreciates the toned, muscled lines of the other man's back, a change from some of the clients he entertains. Bending one leg, Orli hooks his foot behind Eric's legs and pulls him closer as their kiss intensifies.

Moaning into the softness of Orli's mouth, Eric threads his fingers through the dark hair that he's longed to feel for himself. The feel of the silken strands do not disappoint as they slide through his fingers.

Orli breaks the kiss and takes a deep breath, staring up into Eric's lust-filled eyes. Sliding his hands down between their bodies he works open the fly of Eric's pants and slips his fingers inside, the heat of Eric's body pulsing through his skin. Gasping when Orli touches him, Eric suddenly has the sensation of being sixteen years old again and in the backseat of Jake Devereux's car at the lake. 

_Get a grip, will you Bana?_

"It's been a while," he rasps in feeble explanation.

"That's ok," Orli whispers, he’s used to soothing clients' nerves. "Just relax and let me take care of you," he instructs gently, backing off the pressure of his touch to just a whisper of sensation.

Eric nods, any form of speech now lost in his throat as it tightens from just staring down into Orli's dark eyes.

Orli carefully rolls Eric onto his back and kneels up, straddling Eric's waist. He strips his own shirt up and over his head, leaving his hair even more tousled than normal. Eric's hands flutter at his side, and Orli guides them up to the front of his jeans, encouraging Eric to undo the button.

Keeping his eyes locked with Orli's, Eric unfastens the jeans then slowly slides his hands between the denim and warm skin. Pulling Orli closer, he leans up to recapture his mouth for a hungry kiss as his fingers squeeze the soft flesh in his hands.

Orli wriggles his hips, letting his jeans slide over his hips as he leans forward. He keeps his hands occupied as they kiss, working the fabric further and further down until he can kick them off completely.

Eric can't stop stroking Orli's soft skin; it's like warm silk beneath his fingers. His hand glides down over Orli's hip and across his abdomen, shaking slightly as he looks up as if to ask permission to continue touching him.

Shifting his hips into Eric's touch, Orli tries to encourage him. _You paid for it, it's all yours,_ he wants to whisper, but something tells him not to interrupt the illusion that this is something more than a business transaction.

Palming Orli's soft cock and balls, Eric's fantasy is rudely interrupted with the reminder that this boy is not here with him as a lover and that he does not feel the way that Eric feels. With a heavy sigh, Eric moves his hands back to Orli's hips.

"Hey," Orli says softly when he hears Eric sigh. "None of that now," he smiles invitingly and sits back up, hooking his fingers over the top of Eric's pants and slowly starts to drag them off, working his own body backwards as he inches down the fabric.  
Eric reaches out again when Orli moves closer, the urge to touch his golden skin too much for him to resist. He lifts his hips as Orli pushes down the boxer shorts he's wearing, leaving his still-very-interested cock lying against his flat stomach.

Orli strips Eric's pants the rest of the way off and slowly crawls back up Eric's body, coming to a stop with his face hovering over Eric's thighs. His eyes flicker up to Eric's face as he deftly unwraps a condom and rolls it down over Eric's cock, following his fingers with his lips.

"Oh god..." moans Eric, stretching and trembling as every nerve in his body seems to center on his cock and what Orli's mouth is doing to it.

Steadying Eric's hips with his hands, Orli hollows his cheeks as his head bobs in a slow rhythm, moving up to the very tip of Eric's length before swallowing him down to the root over and over.

Eric's fingers find Orli's hair again, tangling in the dark curls as his head moves up and down. Biting his lip to keep from making any more sounds that he'll be embarrassed about later, Eric struggles to resist the temptation to thrust harder into the heat of Orli's mouth.

Orli can feel Eric's breath quicken with each passing moment and his hips shift upwards with each stroke of his lips despite his grasp. Gradually slowing his movements, he lifts his head and shifts up further, his body hovering over Eric. "Do you want to get me ready for you or do you want me do it while you watch?" he says softly.

Swallowing hard at the mental image of Orli preparing himself for his cock, Eric's response is a whispered groan. "Let me watch you."

Nodding, Orli rolls to the side, making room for himself on his back next to Eric. He lays his palm flat on his stomach, letting it rise and fall with his breath for a moment before inching it lower, fingertips dancing lightly along the shaft of his cock.

Beautiful. The word keeps filling Eric's mind while he watches the graceful movements of the young man lying beside him as he makes himself ready for Eric.

With the assistance of his teeth, Orli uses his free had to open a packet of lube and he spills it out over his fingers, the slick fluid glistening in the low light of the room. He spreads a generous amount over his growing erection, his flesh firm and pulsing under his touch.

Reaching over as Orli tilts his head back; Eric caresses the dark curls again. His touch is so soft that Orli isn't even aware of it as he continues with his task.

Orli draws his legs up to his chest, splaying his thighs wide to give Eric a good view. Sliding his fingers down behind his balls he starts to tease at his hole, gradually working first one finger, then a second inside.

"Can't wait to be inside you," Eric whispers, slowly fisting his own throbbing erection in anticipation.

"Mmmm," Orli moans, feeding off Eric's interest in talking dirty. "Stretching me, filling me, shoving your dick inside me." He starts to rock his hips now, pushing down with each stab of his fingers. "I'm ready for you," he says, biting his lip invitingly.

Pulling Orli into his arms, Eric covers his mouth with a bruising kiss. "Want you to ride me. I want to watch you over me."

Orli nods agreeably and scrambles up on top of Eric as he settles into the bed. Kneeling up, he reaches back and uses his slick fingers to coat the latex covering Eric's length.

Eric takes hold of Orli's hips to help guide him as he begins to push into the tightness of his body. Even through the latex, the heat is overwhelming and again Eric has to fight the urge to push deeper inside.

Feeling Eric hesitate below him, Orli bends and brushes his lips over Eric's throat. "No need to hold back" he murmurs, tilting his hips to meet Eric's upward push.

"I don't want to hurt you," Eric explains, a groan of pure lust and pleasure following his words as Orli begins to move above him.

"You won't," Orli whispers, contracting his thighs to lift and drop on Eric's cock to take him deeper. "You feel good inside me."

"You feel... oh god..." A doctorate in English and the only word that Eric can say is, "Fuck!" His large hands move around to Orli's butt, covering each cheek completely. Squeezing and kneading the soft flesh as Orli slides up and down on his cock.

"Yeah," Orli moans softly. "Just like that." He tips his head back, exposing the cords in his neck as he throws his entire body into creating as much pleasure as he can for Eric.

Eric's hands slide up and around Orli's waist to hold him steady as he starts to push even harder, his control slipping as he gets closer and closer to his release.

Orli braces his hands on Eric's strong arms, moving in concert with Eric's body. He's surprised to find that despite the awkward beginning to the evening he is actually starting to enjoy himself somewhat and he has to admit to himself that he likes the way Eric's hands feel against his skin. 

Despite his many faults, being a selfish lover has never been one of Eric's. Slowing his pace, he holds onto the delicious feeling of impending climax as he takes hold of Orli's half hard cock and begins to steadily stroke him.

Orli's head snaps up when he feels Eric's hand close around his dick. He definitely isn't used to johns taking his pleasure into account and he struggles not to let his surprise show. _Get it together,_ he tells himself, trying to turn his attention back to his work.

"Is this okay?" murmurs Eric as he watches Orli's face. "I want to watch you come."

"Okay," Orli whispers, wondering even as the word escapes his lips if it is the right decision. He can feel Eric's attachment to him and he's powerless to stop his body from wanting it too.

"I bet you're even more beautiful when you come," Eric croons as he uses his thumb to tease around the head of Orli's cock throbbing in his grasp.

"Are you this nice to all the prostitutes you hire?" Orli says softly, trying to gently remind Eric of their true relationship.

"I guess so. Since you're the only one I've ever hired," replies Eric as he starts to work Orli's cock faster.

Orli's back arches and he struggles to hold on as his climax starts to rise in his core. _Must have been telling the truth earlier,_ Orli thinks. _No wonder he's treating me like a lover._ His mouth open in a silent gasp, his body contracts and his orgasm shudders through his frame.

Taking hold of Orli's hips, Eric begins to thrust again, pushing up into Orli's now sated and pliant body until he reaches his own climax. He comes with a hoarse cry that sounds like Orli's name, holding on tightly to his hired lover as he finds his release.

Collapsing forward, Orli clings to Eric's chest as he tries to regain his breath and find his shattered composure.

"I was right. You are beautiful when you come," Eric whispers as he wraps his arms around Orli and holds him close.

"Thank you," Orli murmurs, unsure how else to answer. As the glow of the moment starts to wear off, a sense of uncomfortable awkwardness starts to creep back in. He'll have to sit in Professor Bana's class on Tuesday morning and he'll know that when Eric looks at him this is what he'll be remembering.

"I still can't believe you're here," Eric says as if sharing the same thoughts as Orli. "You're such a good student. To say I was a little shocked that you're the one who showed up tonight would be the understatement of the century."

"My line of work means I can't be a good student?" Orli asks lightly, gently rolling to the side but not yet pulling away from Eric's arms.

"Oh... no. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that. The blood hasn't quite made its way back to my brain."

"No offense taken," Orli laughs quietly. "The hours don't conflict with classes and the money is good," he says by way of explanation.

"How long have you been doing this? If you don't mind me asking, that is?" Eric's need to know more about the object of his desire overshadows any semblance of etiquette in this situation.

"Not that long," Orli says in a non-committal way, carefully extracting himself from Eric's arms. "A year or so?" he says after stopping to think about it. "Do you mind if I use your bathroom?"

"No, of course not.” Eric replies, sitting up in the bed when Orli leaves the circle of his arms. "Would you like a drink or something?" he calls to Orli through the closed door to the bathroom as he crawls out of bed, discarding the used condom and reaching for his pants.

"No, I'm fine, thanks." Orli calls back. He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, wondering how he ended up in this surreal moment. Shaking his head he makes short work of cleaning up and then pads back into the now empty bedroom. He pulls on his clothes and shoves his feet into his shoes before going in search of Eric to say goodbye.

Eric is climbing the stairs after a quick visit to the kitchen when he looks up to see Orli at the top, dressed and seemingly ready to leave. He hands Orli a bottle of water when he reaches the top. "Leaving so soon?"

Orli takes the water and leans against the railing. "I really need to get going," he says, trying to ignore Eric's obvious disappointment.

"Oh. I see," Eric looks down at the bottle of water that he had brought for himself. "Well, let me walk you out," he offers, holding his arm out as he waits for Orli to continue down the stairs.

Taking Eric's arm, Orli feels somewhat like a debutant on her way to her debut as he makes his way down the winding staircase in Eric's elegant house. "I had a good time tonight," Orli says honestly when they reach the door.

Eric smiles then nods his head. "I did, too. A very good time." He reaches for the doorknob then pauses. "Would it be alright if I gave you a kiss goodnight?" he asks softly.

Orli smiles and reaches out, cupping Eric's cheek. "Of course," he says and leans in.

The kiss is slow and tender, nothing like the earlier passion shared upstairs. Eric sighs when Orli finally pulls back. "Goodnight Orli," he says quietly.

"Goodnight Eric." Orli steps out onto the porch and gives a small wave as he bounds down the steps. "See you Tuesday," he calls back over his shoulder.

Eric waves then watches Orli until he disappears down the street toward St. Charles. He closes the door and leans back against it. "I can't believe that I just had sex with Orlando," he says out loud, his voice echoing in the empty foyer.


	2. Chapter 2

Eric rolls over in his bed, blinking at the bright morning light that streams through the window in his bedroom. Did he really have sex with one of his students last night? The same student who has been the object of his desire from the first day he’d walked into Eric’s classroom?

If it were six months ago, Eric would say it was just a drunken dream, courtesy of a bottle of whiskey and a morning hangover. Only it isn’t six months ago and Eric has been sober for almost half a year. He cringes inside as he recalls his first AA meeting. Of all the lofty ambitions that he’s ever aspired to, becoming a cliché’ had never been one of them. A misunderstood writer living in New Orleans and a certified lush to boot. It’s no wonder that Eric’s socialite parents have given up on trying to control the life of their only son. 

He’d been able to work around the fact that he had started drinking more than he was writing. The university had been kind enough "to look the other way" as long as he hadn’t missed his classes but then the luster from his last published book slowly began to wear off and they had not seemed to be so forgiving as before. Even Gerry had told him that he thought he needed help. Now he’s clean and sober. And he’s fucked one of his students. 

Eric rubs his eyes and lets out a loud groan. He had just wanted to get laid. His celibacy had a longer run than his sobriety and he had finally bought into the idea of a rent boy after Gerry had passed the business card along to him that day at breakfast. Eric had been in need. A warm body for the night. No strings, no attachments. No problems, no worries. At least until Orlando had shown up at his front door. 

He could have said no. Sent him away. He _should_ have said no. He should have told him it was a terrible mistake and for him to go home. Orlando. A rent boy. Orli. _His_ Orli. He hopes that fate is having a good laugh at his expense, but as usual, he fails to see the humor this particular situation. 

Sitting up on the side of his bed, Eric stretches and moans softly. A soft, familiar twinge in certain parts of his body reminding him of the incredible sex he’d had last night. The tips of his fingers tingle at the memory of touching the silken skin and dark curls. An ache forms in his center as he remembers the feeling of sinking into the velvet heat of Orli’s lithe body. He shakes his head and gets to his feet to walk into the bathroom. He leans over the sink then slowly lifts his eyes to meet the gaze staring back at him. 

“I can’t do this. I can’t,” Eric says out loud to his reflection in the mirror. “It’s not right. He’s my student. I’m his professor. It’s wrong. And I can’t let it happen again. Never again.” 

~*O*~

Orli locks the door behind him and drops his keys on the kitchen counter. He turns out his pockets, dumping the extra condoms and lube into the drawer. The wad of bills gets separated into two envelopes, one tucked carefully in his messenger bag to be dropped off the next morning and the other gets carried into his bedroom and buried in the bottom of his sock drawer. He strips out of his clothes, leaving them piled in the corner and steps into the bathroom. He cranks on the taps so the water can warm up while he takes a piss. 

Stepping into the cascade of hot water, Orli lets it wash over him for a few minutes as he just stands and enjoys. Finally with a sigh, he reaches over and upends some shampoo into his palm and starts to work it through his hair as he makes a mental list of all he needs to get done before dawn. 

_Two listening exercises for music appreciation, studying for a three chapter exam in government and portfolio revisions for advanced exposition. Not to mention the lit paper for Professor Bana…._ Orli pauses for a moment letting his thoughts wander to his handsome Literature teacher. A flash of longing courses through him and he wishes the client he’d just left had been Eric instead. 

Orli shakes his head, snapping himself out of that train of thought. He ducks his head forward into the stream of water, watching as the suds swirl down the drain. Stepping out of the shower he wraps a towel around his hips and brushes his teeth, his body back to being his own again. 

Flipping on his computer as he walks through the bedroom, Orli gathers his books and dumps them on the desk. He fills the carafe on the coffee maker he keeps on top of his small filing cabinet and sets the pot to brew, making sure the steaming liquid is extra strong tonight. 

He slips into a pair of well worn jeans, both knees poking through gaping holes, and pulls a sweatshirt down over his head. He rummages in the nightstand drawer and opens the small metal breath mint tin he keeps there, holding something with much more kick than a peppermint. He shakes a tiny white dot out into his palm and makes a mental note to call his dealer to replenish his stock. He pops the pill in his mouth and settles down at the desk, knowing between the coffee and the drugs he’ll manage to stay awake all night and get his schoolwork done.

~*O*~*O*~

Orli bounces on the balls of his feet, his body jittery as he waits for the line to inch along. He's been up all night and he can't wait for the caffeine to surge through his veins and give him the boost he knows he needs to finish up his paper before class. He cranes his neck over the two giggly girls in front of him and tries to decide what he wants so he won't hold up the line when it's his turn.

"Is the line moving as slow as usual?" asks Eric, smiling at Orli when the young man turns around to see who is talking to him. Eric had spotted the dark curls in the line at the counter and for a moment had thought to leave before Orli saw him, but he knows that won't help anything. Orli is his student and he can't avoid the boy forever.

Orli about jumps out of his skin when Eric first speaks but he quickly recovers when he sees his smiling professor. "I think slower today. They know I need a fix," he jokes. "You see I have this paper for my English class that I need to finish..." he trails off with a sly smile.

"Oh really?" Eric arches an eyebrow. "I'd have thought you would have been long finished with that assignment," he says, sinking into the sight of Orli's smile.

"I'm shattering your illusion of me as the perfect student, aren't I?" Orli jokes. "I'm usually not this last minute with things but I've had a busy week." The line surges forward slightly and Orli inches closer to the counter.

 _A busy week._ The words echo in Eric's brain as he struggles to keep a tight grip on his resolve not to think of Orli as the beautiful rent boy who he'd paid to have sex with him, but to think of him only as his student. His intelligent and delightful student. "That happens. It always gets busy close to mid term."

"Definitely. Stuff due in all my classes and work has been busier than usual," Orli explains. "Taking everything I have right now just to keep everything going. It's a little like juggling," he laughs. "Gotta keep everything in the air, spread your attention around."

"Do you have a full class load this term?" Eric asks, keeping his questions focused on Orli's school instead of his work. Eric already knows entirely too much about Orli's job.

"Technically, yes. I only have 12 hours though so I'm just barely full time." Orli steps forward again, now within reach of the counter. "I'd love to take more but it's just not in the cards financially for me."

"Are you on scholarship?" Eric holds up his hand as he shakes his head in apology. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry into your personal business. I was asking because you're such a good student."

"No," Orli shakes his head. "I don't know too much about what is out there, and financial aid involves all kinds of prying into my income which isn't something I really want, you know?" It's finally Orli's turn to order and he rattles off the requirements for his drink in rapid fire style.

After the girl behind the counter makes Orli's drink and begins to ring it up, Eric steps in and offers to pay. "May I?" he asks, their immediate conversation about finances filling him with the urge to help the young man, even in this small way.

Orli nods, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. He steps down to the end of the counter to wait for his drink while Eric pays and orders his own coffee. "Thanks," he says with a grateful smile when Eric joins him. "I hope you didn't feel obligated after my tale of woe."

"Not obligated, no," Eric smiles as the waitress brings Orli his coffee. "Do you have time to join me for a moment?" he asks as he gestures to one of the empty tables near the window.

"Of course. I always have time for my favorite professor." Orli knows he's flirting, but he can't help it, and so far Eric doesn't seem opposed to the idea.

"I'll bet you say that to all your professors," Eric laughs, almost certain that none of them would be susceptible to Orli's charm as he is. "What other classes are you taking?"

"I have Advanced Exposition, and your course for my major, and then a music appreciation course for my fine arts requirement and an American government course for my civics requirement. Nothing too awful this semester." Orli slides into a seat at the small table and wraps his fingers around his steaming paper cup.

"So your major is English Literature?" Eric takes the seat on the other side of the small table.

"I'm actually a writing major but we have to take a literature core along with our composition courses. Well rounded and all that. I think I do a passable job at the literature side of things, would you agree?"

"Yes. I would agree. Quite passable." Eric takes a sip of his coffee.

"Passable at other things as well, right?" Orli can't help but tease, even though he knows he's treading a dangerous path with his professor.

Eric goes still, his coffee cup halted in mid air. He's afraid to look at Orli. He can feel the defenses that he's spent the past few days building as they start to crack and threaten to crumble around him. "Orli..." he says softly, almost breathlessly.

Orli can see Eric's hand start to tremble and he reaches out and plucks the cup from Eric's fingers before the hot liquid can cascade over the edge. "Sorry. Sometimes I don't know when to stop and just keep my mouth shut," he explains.

"No. It's not your fault. It's mine. I made a big mistake that night and there's no one else to blame for it. Only me." Eric finally lifts his eyes to meet Orli's. "I don't have any excuses. I was lonely. Frustrated. My friend had given me a card for your... agency. I called it, but I never in a million years expected to see you at my door."

Orli sets Eric's coffee on the table. "I don't want things to be weird between us. I enjoy your class and if I can be so frank, I enjoy your company. There's no need to be embarrassed by what happened."

"But it was wrong. I'm your professor. Those sort of _relations_ are not permitted between the teaching staff and the students. You could be expelled if someone were to find out and report it. And I'd be fired immediately."

"I'm not telling. And you aren't telling right? I don't want what I do splashed around campus any more than you want the fact that you hired a hooker to be public knowledge. It was a business transaction and it is no one's business but ours." Orli knows what he's said is somewhat cold, but he wants to lay it out on the table.

Eric nods in agreement to what Orli is saying. "And it will never happen again," he adds solemnly.

Orli nods but he's heard those words from clients before. "If it does it's not the end of the world," he offers before taking a drink of his coffee.

Eric frowns, lowering his gaze away from Orli. _It will never happen again._ He repeats the mantra in his head.

Seeing that Eric is uncomfortable with the subject, he tries to move their conversation elsewhere. "Are you having a busy semester?"

"No more than normal," replies Eric. "I've been keeping busy though. I'm fortunate enough to have another book that's being published. It's coming out over the holidays."

"That's exciting," Orli says with genuine interest, leaning closer across the table. "What's it about?"

"A young southern man coming of age and coming to terms with his sexuality."

"Autobiographical?" Orli asks with a soft laugh.

"Somewhat. All my books have pieces of me in them," Eric responds, a defensive edge to his tone.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Orli assures him, hearing the tone in the other man's voice. "I think all writers leave a piece of them in their work."

"And you? Do you have pieces of you in your writing?" Eric searches the dark eyes staring back at him, looking for an answer to the questions that he hasn't even asked yet.

"I try not to," Orli says honestly. "But it happens none the less." He takes another drink of his coffee and watches Eric's face. "And now you'll be scouring my work for glimpses into my psyche, won't you."

"Do you want me to?" Eric asks softly.

"Don't think I can stop you," Orli reasons. "The question is whether you want to."

"No. I don't think I do," is Eric's honest answer. The less he knows about Orli's psyche, the better to help him to try and forget the sublime feeling of Orli's body as it moved beneath him the other night.

Orli nods and sits back in his chair, surprised by Eric's answer. _It's for the best though,_ he tries to remind himself. "Then I won't obsess about what I turn in to you."

 _If only it would stop me from obsessing about you._ "I should go," Eric smiles then takes another drink of his coffee.

"And I should finish my paper. I wouldn't want to get points docked from my grade," Orli teases.

"Absolutely not." Eric gets to his feet. "I'll see you later," he says with a slight bow of his head.

"See you in class." Orli raises his hand in a wave before reaching down to dig in his bag and pull out his books.

*~O~*~O~*~O~*

Eric paces back and forth across the tile floor of his kitchen. His footsteps echo with a hollow sound, an unpleasant reminder of how empty this big house can seem when he's alone. 

_When am I never not alone?_

He looks down at the piece of paper in his hand. A synopsis of the early reviews for his book. All good. The book is still on track to be released during the Christmas holidays and the buzz for it is already strong and positive. Eric couldn't ask for a better Christmas present than that. 

Well, maybe just one.

Eric goes into his study and opens the drawer in his desk. He knows the card is in there. He hasn't been able to throw it away even though it would have been the smart thing to do. For a college professor, Eric hasn't been feeling all that smart lately. 

Dialing the number on the card, he tells the woman with raspy voice exactly what he wants. Yes. All night this time. He's in the mood to celebrate.

*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*

Orli takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. His stomach has been doing flips ever since he got the text with Eric's address. He'd known the moment he saw it who his client was, and he'd also seen that his professor has requested the entire night this time so there will be no early escape. While he waits for Eric to answer the door, he repeats over and over to himself that he is here for work and he needs to be professional.

Eric opens the door, an enormous smile on his handsome face. 

"Orli," he says with a soft sigh, stepping back to allow his guest to enter.

Orli steps into the foyer, awed yet again by the expanse of Eric's home. "I was surprised to see you'd called the service again," he says when Eric closes the door.

Eric openly appraises Orli as they linger in his foyer. The neat blue jeans that fit him perfectly and the green pullover sweater that brings out the chocolate color of his eyes. 

"I was surprised to be calling the service again," admits Eric. "Let's call it a momentary lack of reason." He shakes his head and chuckles softly. "No, that's not quite right. I had a reason. I wanted to see you again."

"Well you've got me," Orli says with a seductive smile. "I'm all yours." This part is easy, a practiced role he can fall into that's safe.

"I'm glad that you came." Eric gestures toward the living room with a wave of his arm. "Have a seat," he says as he waits for Orli to go into the other room first. "Oh, yes. I almost forgot." He hands Orli the folded bills. His fee for one night.

Orli discreetly counts and pockets the bills, noticing Eric has included a very generous tip. He takes a seat in the living room, wondering what Eric has in mind for their evening.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've taken the liberty of putting some champagne on ice. You see, I received some good news today and I feel like celebrating if you'll join me?" asks Eric as he lifts the bottle of bubbly from an ornate, silver ice bucket.

"Good news?" Orli asks as he gets comfortable in the chair. "Do tell."

"Early critics’ reviews for my new book," Eric smiles as he pours the bubbling wine into two crystal flutes. "They like me. They really like me," he jokes, handing Orli one of the glasses.

"Excellent," Orli responds excitedly. He raises his glass in a toast. "To the accomplished author."

"And in honor of my British guest..." Eric lifts his glass in salute. "Cheers!"

Orli touches his glass to Eric's and takes a sip of the champagne. He doesn't know much about different types of champagne, but he has a feeling that this is an expensive one and he should compliment it as such. "Nice choice," he says, indicating the bottle.

"I'm glad you like it." Eric doesn't bother to explain that he bought it special and why he doesn't keep a stock of anything alcoholic in the house. "That's something that I've been meaning to ask you." He takes another swallow of champagne. "How is it that an Englishman came to be a student in New Orleans?"

Taking another sip of the champagne, Orli takes a moment to gather his thoughts. "I came here the summer between my first and second year of college on an exchange program. I fell in love with the city and never left." He conveniently leaves out the fact that it wasn't only the city he fell in love with, figuring that stories of past lovers are not what a paying client would want to hear about.

"I can understand that. New Orleans is a very special city. I love it, too, and not just because it's my home." Eric takes a seat on the couch next to Orli.

"Have you lived here all your life?" Orli drapes his free hand across Eric's thigh, his fingers toying at the seam.

"All my life except for one semester abroad. My family is from New Orleans," replies Eric, the skin beneath where Orli is touching him tingling with the intimate contact.

"So we have something in common," Orli smiles, his fingers moving in rhythmic circles. "Both studied abroad."

"Not exactly. I taught a semester abroad. An exchange program for instructors. It was in England." Eric leans in, lessening the distance between him and Orli. "I think that's where my attraction for British accents began."

"Ah, so it's my accent you fancy," Orli teases, swaying into Eric's orbit, drawn like a magnet.

"That..." Eric's hand glides upward along Orli's arm and rests against his neck. "And other things."

Orli drains the last of the champagne from his glass and sets it aside. "Lots of other things I hope," he says as he moves closer.

"Shall I tell you all the things that I like about you?" smiles Eric as Orli takes his glass from his hand and sets it on the table next to his.

"I have a better idea," Orli whispers, tilting his head and brushing his lips across Eric's earlobe. "Why don't you show me?"

Pulling Orli into his arms, Eric doesn't hesitate a moment before claiming the lips that he's been dreaming about ever since the last time they had been together like this. Orli shifts over, straddling Eric's lap as he meets his demanding kiss.

Eric lays his head against the back of the couch, staring up into Orli's brown eyes. "This is a beautiful view. Your face is definitely one of the things that I like about you. I'll bet everyone tells you that. That you're beautiful."

"They might have mentioned that at some point," Orli demurs, catching Eric's hands and placing them on his hips. "I have a feeling you've had no shortage of admirers over the years."

"They must have been secret ones," Eric laughs, a stilted self-deprecating sound. He squeezes his hands on Orli's hip as he continues to stare up him.

Orli wishes he could take it back when he senses how uncomfortable Eric is. He leans forward and nips at Eric's lip before devouring him in another kiss, distracting him from his thoughts.

"I want you," Eric murmurs, still kissing Orli between the words.

Sliding his arms around Eric's neck, Orli grinds his hips in Eric's lap as their kisses intensify. "You can have me," he whispers in response.

"Let's go upstairs." Easily keeping hold of Orli as he gets to his feet, he guides him toward the staircase that will lead them to his bedroom. Eric leaves the champagne. Orli's kisses are intoxicating enough.

*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*

Eric looks through the numerous cabinets in the kitchen. He knows there's one in here somewhere. He's seen it. Ages ago, but surely it would still be here. He opens the cabinet doors above the refrigerator.

"There you are," he says with a smile as he grabs the small vase. He wastes no time in filling it with water and the single rose that he's picked from the bush in the back yard. He sets the small vase on the tray along with the plate of scrambled eggs, croissants and strawberries. Picking up the tray, he starts to carry it upstairs to where Orli is still asleep. 

Always one to be invigorated by sex rather than tired, Eric had awakened early but decided to let Orli rest after their long night together. Eric can't ever remember sharing such a passionate night with anyone. The sex had been fantastic. If he wasn't already addicted to the slender brunet, last night would surely have done it.

Eric sets the tray next to the bed on the side where Orli is still sleeping. He takes a seat on the edge of the bed, watching Orli's face as he continues to dream. Lifting his hand to Orli's face, he runs a finger along the smooth skin of his cheek.

Startled, Orli jerks awake and it takes him a moment to remember where he is. He doesn't have many clients that pay for him to stay the entire night so waking up in unfamiliar surroundings is foreign to him. Eric's face comes into focus, looming above him and he relaxes back against the bed. "Something smells fabulous," he murmurs as the scent of breakfast wafts through the room.

"Breakfast. Are you hungry? And I didn't know if you'd prefer coffee or tea so I thought I would ask before making you something to drink. I also have milk or juice if you prefer?" Eric rattles off the morning options as Orli sits up in the bed.

"Tea would be lovely," Orli says quietly, looking over the spread Eric's prepared. "You really didn't have to go to all this trouble..." he says, shaking his head.

"It was no trouble," smiles Eric. "It's nice to have a guest for breakfast," he says as he gets up to head back downstairs for the tea. "You enjoy and I'll be back in a flash."

Orli nods and watches Eric disappear through the door. He shakes his head slowly as he plucks a strawberry from the tray and pops it into his mouth. _He's getting too attached,_ Orli thinks to himself, worried about Eric's emotional state.

Returning with a steaming cup of Earl Gray; Eric hands the cup and saucer to Orli. He pulls one of the wingback chairs closer to the bed and takes a seat. "I hope you don't mind that I didn't wake you up sooner. You look so peaceful when you sleep. I didn't have the heart to disturb you."

"Luckily you paid by the night, not by the hour," Orli teases gently, reminding Eric of his purpose in his bed. "This way you won't be mad I slept the time away."

"Orli..." Eric takes a deep breath and swallows hard. The subtle reminder had not gone unnoticed, but Eric cannot deny that he wishes Orli was in his bed because he wants to be, not because he's being paid to be. "I know it's none of my business and you will probably tell me so, but I have to ask." Eric looks into the dark eyes that haunt him in his dreams at night. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's much too early in the morning to be this serious," Orli says lightly, pushing a plate of food toward Eric. "And it’s not something I usually talk about with my clients," he says quietly, biting into his scrambled eggs.

 _Is that really all I am to you? Your client?_ The question screams inside his brain but Eric is too afraid to voice it aloud. "Of course. My apologies," he murmurs, lowering his gaze in disappointment.

Orli hates hurting Eric's feelings like this, but he knows he needs to convince the other man to take a step back in his emotions. "These are very good," he says, holding up his fork. "Much better than what I normally have for breakfast."

"I'm glad you like them." Eric gets to his feet and moves toward the window, pushing the drapes aside to look outside toward the street. "What do you normally have for breakfast?" he asks. It's obvious that Orli wants to keep the conversation casual, so casual it will be.

"Mountain Dew or Red Bull," Orli laughs, licking strawberry juice from his fingers.

"No wonder you're so thin. You're running on nothing but caffeine." Eric turns to see Orli's tongue delving between his fingers. The simple sight sends a jolt to his groin, his cock twitching in remembrance of just what that talented tongue can do.

"It's easier than hitting the gym." Orli smiles when he sees Eric watching him, and licks his fingers even more provocatively.

"Tease," whispers Eric.

"Always." Orli pops another berry into his mouth and slides out from under the duvet, the morning sun shining off his bare skin. He pads across the plush carpet without a sound and presses his lips to Eric's mouth, letting the sweet juice coat their kiss.

Eric devours Orli’s mouth, the berry crushing between their lips and tongues as he claims what he wants more than anything, the sweetness of Orlando's kiss.

The thin cotton of Eric's tee shirt does nothing to hide the warmth of his skin as Orli presses up against him and into the kiss. He knows he's flirting with danger, pushing Eric away one minute and throwing himself at him the next, but he can't help but be drawn to the older man.

Pulling away from the torrid kiss, Eric's breathing his ragged and his eyes are dark with lust and something else as he stares into Orli's eyes. "I would ask you to stay, but I only paid for the night," he says quietly.

Orli can feel Eric's heart hammering in his chest where they are pressed together. "Don't ask me to stay because I don't want to have to tell you no," he whispers.

Eric swallows hard; his pride and the emotion that he keeps letting get away from him. "Of course. I know. I've taken enough of your time."

"I'm glad you chose to celebrate with me," Orli says softly, tracing his fingertips over Eric's stubble covered jaw.

"I'm glad it was you, too," he admits, taking hold of Orli's hand in his and kissing the palm.

Orli smiles gently at Eric's sweet gesture; surprised by the pang of longing it provokes. "Shall we finish breakfast? I'd hate for your efforts to go to waste."

"Yes, please. I don't make eggs for just anybody," teases Eric as he keeps hold of Orli's hand and leads him back to the bed.

Lifting the covers, Orli slips underneath and then slides over, making room for Eric in the giant bed. Dragging the breakfast tray closer, Orli keeps his hands busy fussing with the food so he won't reach over and touch Eric, whose eyes he can feel on his skin with each movement.

Slipping back into the bed with Orli, Eric tears the end of a croissant and pops it into his mouth. He forces an amiable smile for his companion as he chews. It just wouldn't due to let Orli know how he really feels. No, it wouldn't do at all.

~*O*~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*

Gerry weaves his way through a group of gabbing women and slips through the door of the Gumbo Shop. He leaves on his sunglasses despite the low light inside. He smiles at the waiter as he gets seated at a table for two and watches the door for his friend to appear.

Seven minutes later, Eric appears. He tells the hostess that he sees his party and gives Gerry a slight wave as he winds through the maze of tables and joins him near the back. 

"Sorry I'm late. Street car was full of tourists and running late. Have you been waiting long?" asks Eric.

"Not long. I think this may be the first time I've ever arrived first," Gerry says with a self satisfied grin. "Of course it doesn't hurt that I spent the night about a block over and just rolled out of bed a bit ago."

"Slut," Eric grins slyly then opens his menu to take a look at the selections.

"Jealous," Gerry laughs in return, beckoning to the cute waiter that they are ready for drinks.

"A beer. Abita," says Eric without looking up from his menu.

Gerry raises his eyebrow, but doesn't comment. After all, Eric is a grown man capable of making his own decisions. "Make it two." The waiter nods and heads for the bar and Gerry checks out his ass as he goes before turning back to his friend. "So how have things been? You've been scarce the past week or two."

Eric appreciates it when his friend doesn't comment on his order. Nagging him about his drinking has never been a help, especially when he has a lot on his mind.

"Things have been busy. There are a lot of final details for the book and getting ready for the initial tour during the holidays. My mother is going to blow a gasket when I tell her I won't be around for Christmas. Again."

"Did that on purpose, didn't you," Gerry teases, knowing how Eric feels about his family.

"I got lucky." Eric grins and sets his menu aside. "Which reminds me... that's not the only way I've been lucky lately."

Gerry rubs his hands together and leans forward. "Do tell. I'm tired of being the only one with exciting stories."

Eric clears his throat and smiles again. "That card you gave me. I called. I've called a few times actually."

"You dog," Gerry teases, leaning back as the waiter deposits two chilled bottles on their table. "I was sure you'd tossed that out as soon as you left that day."

"No." Eric shakes his head. "I called. And you are not going to believe it when I tell you this. I still can't believe it myself." He looks across the table at his friend, his smile slipping when he's seized with a sudden thought that sends a cold chill down his spine. "You've used the service yourself, right?"

"I wouldn't have recommended it if I hadn't vetted it first." Gerry takes a sip of his beer and finally feels awake enough to remove his sunglasses. "Why do you ask?"

"Did you ever have a boy... named Orlando?"

"The name doesn't sound familiar, but then again their names aren't what I'm interested in, right?" Gerry can sense anxiety in his friend's voice and his voice grows more serious. "I take it that's who they sent you?"

"Yes. Dark hair, dark eyes. British accent?" Eric pushes for any recognition from Gerry, his need to know burning in the pit of his stomach.

"Probably not then," Gerry reassures him. "You know me. I go for the fair haired ones."

Eric exhales an audible sigh of relief then pauses as the waiter returns to take their food order. When they are alone again, he leans in close so only Gerry can hear him. "Orlando. The one they sent. He's my student."

"Ooooh," Gerry says, making a face. "That's a bit awkward, yeah?"

"Oh, it gets better." Eric reaches for his beer and takes a long swallow, liquid courage to help with his next revelation. He looks at Gerry and takes a deep breath. "I'm in love with him, Gerry."

Gerry shakes his head, collecting his thoughts. "You're in lust my friend, not love. It's natural. They make you feel like you are the center of their world, the best fuck they've ever had. But in the end they take your money and go back to their own lives. It's a heady thrill but it's fleeting."

"No, you don't understand." Eric shakes his head again and smiles. "I've been in love with him from the moment I saw him on the first day of class. It was him that I was thinking about when I called the service. I even asked them to send me a boy with dark hair and dark eyes and it was _him_! It was like my fantasy coming true."

 _This is bad,_ Gerry thinks to himself. "You've never been the type to fancy your students before, why the change for this one?"

"I... I don't know," admits Eric. "There's just something about him. He's beautiful. A good student. Bright. Funny. And so damn sexy without even trying to be. It's all I can do to not stare at him in class."

"What are the odds that he worked for the place I told you to call? And even more, what are the odds that he's the one they sent? You should buy a lottery ticket or go down to Harrah's or something," Gerry says, trying to laugh about the situation.

"You're right. What are the odds? What are the odds that I've fallen in love and he's a prostitute?" Eric looks around guiltily for just saying the words out loud.

"So was he everything you'd imagined he'd be?" Gerry asks as their food arrives.

"God, yes." Eric exhales softly as if the admission itself is defeat.

"Now what?" Gerry takes a bite of his poboy and contemplates the situation Eric has found himself in.

Eric pulls a stray shrimp off his sandwich and pops it into his mouth. "I don't know. I have no earthly idea about what it is that I should be doing when it comes to him. All I know is that I have to see him again. And I don't mean in class."

"And how does he feel about all this. It can't be easy to turn up at your prof's front door like that." Gerry tries to wipe his fingers off on the napkin and gives up, licking them instead.

"He seems... professional." Eric rearranges the french fries on his plate without eating them. "He doesn't know how I feel."

Things make more sense now to Gerry, the lack of phone calls and emails over the past week, the beer with lunch just small insights into Eric's state of mind. "Unrequited love's a bitch. Think of the great literature devoted to the subject."

"I'd rather be reading it than living it." Eric sighs heavily then takes another bite of his poboy. The thought of his feelings for Orlando really being unrequited is too painful to dwell on for long. He reaches for his beer and drains it with one long gulp.

For all his silver-tongued gifts, Gerry really is at a loss for advice to give his lovelorn friend. They eat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in thought. "So where does it go from here?" he asks finally. "Do you keep hiring him and pretending it's something it's not? Or do you try and make a real go of it even though he's your student?"

"Him being my student won't be a problem in a few weeks when the semester is over. Him being my call boy..." Eric lets out a bitter sounding laugh. "That's something all together different.”

"Have you talked to him outside of class other than when he’s working?" Gerry bites back a comment as Eric signals to the waiter for another beer.

"Once. When we ran into each other at the coffee shop. Why?"

"Just curious." Gerry pushes his plate away, his hung-over stomach unable to take any more. "Does he have more to offer than physical talents?"

"Yes, he does. Like I said, he's a great student. Very intelligent. He has a wonderful sense of humor..." Eric's voice trails off as his second beer is delivered and he takes another long drink. "But he sleeps with strange men for money," he adds quietly.

"And you hired him," Gerry points out gently. "I think you have a decision to make," he says, watching Eric down his second beer.

"And what decision would that be?" asks Eric.

Gerry gives Eric a tense smile. "Whether you have the balls to tell him how you feel."

Eric stares at Gerry for a long moment then slowly nods his head. He knows his friend is right. If he ever truly believes that anything will come from his relationship with Orli; he has to find the way to tell him somehow.

The conversation drifts to another topic as they both finish up their lunch, moving on to easier and lighter subjects. Gerry gives Eric a mighty hug when they are done and makes him promise not to go back into hiding. Eric agrees reluctantly and steps out into the bright sunshine with thoughts of his situation heavy on his mind.

~*O*~*O*~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*~O~*

Eric doesn’t need the little black card any more. He knows the number by heart.

“Hello, Eric,” the soft, feminine voice on the other end of the phone line replies. “I’m sorry, but Orlando is not available for this evening. Would you like to have someone else visit you tonight?

 _There is no one else._

His Orli. With someone else. The mental image of Orli, soft and yielding to another man, sharing his smile and his breathless moans, fills Eric’s brain until his head begins to throb. 

“No. I’ll take Orlando’s next available appointment,” Eric says quietly.


	3. Chapter 3

Eric sits in the comfortable arm chair and stares at the painting that hangs over the mantle of the fireplace, a glass of whiskey dangling from his fingertips. The nights are getting cooler but it's rarely cold enough in New Orleans to warrant a real fire. Eric feels the cold though. The cold of an empty bed and the chill of being alone when all he wants is to be with the one he cares about. 

_I'm sorry, but Orlando is not available this evening._

The words keep ringing in his ears, a constant reminder that he's not the only man who's bed Orli warms, if only for a short while. He had replayed the telephone conversation endlessly in his mind until he finally returned to the familiar comfort of a bottle of Jack Daniels to help him forget about the boy he can't have. He takes a long swallow of the whiskey, relishing the familiar burn as the alcohol slides smoothly down his throat. 

Eric hears the expected knock and slowly gets to his feet to go and answer it, an unsteady sway toward the door. He opens it and leans heavily against it, looking at his requested guest without so much as a smirk in greeting.

Orli looks up when the door opens, a broad smile on his face, until he sees Eric slumped against the frame. His smile cracks slightly but he manages to keep it from falling. "Everything okay there?"

"Never better," replies Eric as he waves Orli inside with a wide sweep of his arm. He ignores the scattered drops of whiskey he leaves on the hardwood floor as he slams the door closed behind him. "So glad you could make it. Given your busy schedule, I mean," Eric says quietly, a brittle edge to his voice as he walks back into the living room, leaving Orli to stand alone in the foyer.

When Orli steps inside, he brushes past Eric and can smell the stench of alcohol pouring off him. While he is used to this with many of his clients it is a new experience for him with Eric and he wonders what has brought this on. He pulls his cell phone out of his pocket just enough to check the time, misinterpreting Eric's complaint. "You said eight p.m. right? It's exactly 8:02."

Eric flops back into his chair and reaches for the bottle on the side table. "I didn't say you were late." He pours himself a large serving of Jack Daniels then holds the bottle up toward Orli. "Wanna drink?"

"No thank you," Orli says. "I don't drink while I'm working." While it's not exactly true, after all he had champagne with Eric before, he knows Eric is in no condition to remember and he figures that at least one of them needs to keep a clear head. Something is off about the situation and all his instincts are telling him to leave, but the rational part of his brain reminds him that this is Eric, someone he knows and trusts.

"Against your work ethic, eh?" laughs Eric before he takes a long drink of the whiskey he just poured.

"Something like that," Orli murmurs. Stepping forward, he gently removes the bottle from Eric's hand and sets it on the table as he slides into Eric's lap. "Dulls the senses," he says quietly, wrapping his arms around Eric's neck.

"That's what I like about it," Eric replies, his arms going around Orli's waist as if on instinct alone. Pulling him closer, he crushes his mouth against Orli's in a forceful kiss.

Orli meets the kiss, mouth opening and demanding. Eric tastes like he smells, the whiskey heavy on his lips.

Breaking the kiss, Eric's head tilts back against the chair. He stares glassy-eyed at the beautiful boy in his lap. Lifting his hand, he takes hold of Orli's chin, his thumb rubbing roughly over his bottom lip. "Such a talented mouth... why don't you put it to some good use?" he slurs, letting his hand drop against his thigh.

"I need my money first," Orli reminds him gently, again thinking how "off" this whole evening is feeling. "Then you can have my talented mouth," he says, reaching up to run his finger along Eric's jaw.

"Of course. How very remiss of me. Where _are_ my manners." Eric's tone is sarcastic as he pushes Orli aside and struggles to get to his feet. "No pay, no play. Right, Orlando? I'm no charity case so let me get your money forthwith." Eric staggers into his study and yanks open the drawer, pulling out several large bills without even bothering to count them. He returns to the living room and stalks over to Orli, taking his hand and shoving the wadded up money into it.

Orli takes a deep breath, steadying himself. He deftly counts and straightens the money and shoves it into his pocket, trying to decide how to proceed. "Can I be blunt?"

"I don't know. Can you?" laughs Eric as he slumps back into his chair.

"What the fuck has gotten into you?" Orli asks, stepping closer but not within reach.

Eric looks over at the bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. "About half a bottle of Tennessee whiskey."

"Obviously," Orli mutters, giving up on probing Eric's psyche. He steps closer, ashamed that the only think he can think of at the moment is getting this over with.

"Wha's the matter? Never done it with a drunk before?" Eric looks up at Orli with a lecherous smile.

"More times that I can count," Orli says softly, gracefully dropping to his knees between Eric's spread thighs.

"Tha's right. On to the business at hand!" Eric reaches for Orli, his fingers tangling in the dark curls. "Cause it's all just business. Right, Orli?" he mumbles, his fingers tightening in the soft strands of Orli's hair.

Orli winces slightly at Eric's rough touch but quickly schools his features back into a more pleasant expression. _I thought it was more than that with you, but I guess I was wrong,_ he thinks. "You asked me to put my mouth to good use," he reminds the other man gently.

"And so I did," admits Eric in a quiet whisper.

Noticing that Eric can't hold his glass and his hair at the same time, Orli takes small comfort in the fact that Eric isn't drinking at the moment. He rests his hands on Eric's knees and then slides them up his thighs, his thumbs massaging small circles as he moves.

Eric sits quietly, his dark eyes fixed on Orli's face, watching the other man's expression as he begins his job.

Orli lets his fingers walk up the length of Eric's zipper, teasing at the folds of fabric until he can thumb open the button. Pushing open the other man's pants, he looks up, meeting Eric's alcohol-glazed gaze. Not liking what he sees in his eyes, he turns his attention lower, slipping his fingers under the waistband of Eric's underwear he tugs down the soft cotton. Leaning in he uses his fingers and lips to coax Eric's cock free from its prison and into the heat of his mouth.

Closing his eyes, Eric ignores the slight spinning sensation and focuses on the feel of Orli's mouth on his cock. He loosens the grip he has on Orli's hair, slowly massaging his scalp in the same rhythm that Orli is using as he sucks him.

Feeling Eric relax beneath him, Orli lets down his guard a bit and concentrates on making the other man feel good. He rests his hands on Eric's hips, fingers just lightly brushing against his skin as he licks a line up the underside of Eric's cock and then sucks the whole head between his lips.

"So good..." Eric moans, his hips reflexively pushing upward into the wet heat of Orli's talented mouth.

Orli looks up, replacing his lips with his hand, languidly stroking Eric's length. "Do you want to get off like this? Use my mouth?"

Eric's eyes flutter open and he stares at Orli as his eyes try to focus. "Wha? Yeah... your mouth," he rasps, his body jerking in response to Orli's hand still working his cock.

Nodding even though Eric's head has already fallen back against the chair, Orli settles into a more comfortable position on his knees and continues to fist Eric's cock as he starts to lick and tease with his tongue between strokes.

"Do you like sucking cock, Orli?" Eric asks in a gravely growl. "Guess you must. Considering your line of work." Eric moans and shifts. "You're good at it. I'll give you that."

Orli doesn't answer, knowing there's no response for what Eric has said. He tries to just block it out and concentrate on getting Eric off, hoping he'll relax and sober up slightly after he's come.

"And just how does one get into your line of work, eh?" Eric lifts his head and looks down at Orli, the boy's lips wrapped around the head of his cock. "Stop..." he moans, pushing at Orli's shoulder. "Answer me."

Tilting to the side as Eric knocks him off balance, Orli struggles to right himself. He sits back on his knees, looking up at the other man. "Don't do this," he says, shaking his head.

"Do what?" asks Eric, his lips curling into a drunken sneer. "It's a simple question. How did you become a whore?"

"I needed the money," Orli says with a sigh, wondering why Eric even cares in his drunken state. "There are a lot of rules involved in being here on a student visa and how much money you can make. There are no records involved in this, which makes it a lot easier to earn enough to live on."

"But you're so much better than this." Eric frowns as he struggles to process Orli's answer in his inebriated condition. "Unless... unless you just like it. Is that it?" He flails his arm and pulls himself out of the chair. "You like being a whore. Don't you?"

"It pays the bills." Orli doesn't like where this conversation is headed and he tries to derail it, scooting closer again and tentatively reaching out to touch Eric.

Eric takes a step back, out of Orli's reach. "Who did you fuck last night?" he asks, his tone as icy as his stare.

"A client," Orli says evenly.

Eric glares at Orli still kneeling on the floor. "Of course. We're all clients," he chuckles bitterly. "Just another cock to be sucked like you're just another hole to be fucked."

Orli takes a deep breath. He's never walked out on a client before, but he can see no other way this can end well. He rises to his feet and shoves his hand in his pocket, fumbling for the wad of bills he'd shoved there earlier. He tosses them at Eric's feet and looks up at Eric's surprised face. 

"You can pay me to have sex with you, but you can't pay me to let you treat me this way." Orli backs away, blindly moving toward the door like things are happening in slow motion.

"You can't leave," growls Eric as he takes a step to follow Orli, tripping over his own feet and stumbling to the floor. "Wait!" he yells as Orli reaches the door.

Against his better judgment, Orli pauses with one hand on the doorknob, his back still toward Eric.

"I paid for you!" Eric snarls.

The violence in Eric's voice startles Orli. Up until this point he's chalked up this experience to alcohol, thinking the professor would sleep it off and nothing more would come of it. When he hears the implied threat in Eric's words, he realizes that there's something worse simmering beneath the drunkenness. "I may be a whore, but I have rights!" he says and throws open the door, striding quickly down the steps and away from Eric.

~*O*~

The lights flicker across his face as the streetcar rumbles down St. Charles. He hugs his arms tightly around his chest, his body pressed against the wall at the end of the seat. He's gone past his stop but he can't bring himself to get up, choosing instead to hide here in the dark and think about the events that just transpired. 

Despite his best intentions he'd started to have feelings for his English professor... his client, he corrects himself, preferring to see things that way to ease his pain. He'd thought Eric was different than the other men, different enough that Orli had let him in and let down his guard only to be rewarded by being called a whore and put in his place.

 _At least you had the strength to leave,_ he reminds himself, shaking himself out of his reverie when the streetcar reaches Canal for the second time. He hops off and decides to walk through the quarter rather than wait for the river street car, knowing the crisp night air will help clear his head.

~*O*~*O*~

Orli hasn't been to class since the night he left Eric's. Worried that his student is skipping class because of what has happened between them, Eric knows he has to talk to Orli and explain his drunken behavior. 

Eric turns off Esplanade into The Quarter, the last block farthest from the river. The house at the corner of Barracks and Burgundy may be located in the historical preservation district, but it has definitely seen better days. Eric looks at the peeling paint and warped wooden stairs leading up to a second floor balcony. He instantly hates the idea that Orli would live here. He climbs the rickety stairs and knocks on the screen door.

Orli grumbles and pulls the covers up higher over his head. He knows there is no one he wants to see at his door so he stays put.

Eric checks the number on the piece of paper in his hand to the faded numbers above the door. This should be the place. He tries the screen door and it's not locked. He pulls it back and knocks on the other door.

Pushing the covers down in a huff, Orli stumbles out of bed, weaving slightly only to catch himself on the bedroom doorframe. He blinks at the bright sunlight streaming through window and yanks open the door without bothering to look through the peephole first. "What?" he grouches before comprehending who it is standing there.

"Orli..." Eric doesn't wait to be invited before he rushes in, taking hold of the obviously sick and weakened young man, his large hands cupping Orli's face as he stares at him. "What's wrong? Has someone hurt you?" Eric asks frantically as he takes in the sallow color of Orli's skin and his red and swollen eyes.

Orli takes a step back, gently prying Eric's hands away from his face. "You don't get to touch me," he says bitterly, dissolving into a hacking cough. "I'm fine."

Eric lets his hands fall to his side, his brow wrinkling in concern at the sound of Orli's harsh cough. "You're not fine," he says quietly.

"Just a cold," Orli mutters, wrapping his arms around his body and tucking his fingers into his sleeves. "Not to be rude, but why are you here?"

"I've been worried about you. You weren't in class and after what I did the last time... I was scared that something had happened to you."

"Worried?" Orli scoffs. "More like you sobered up and felt guilty."

Eric frowns, guiltily lowering his gaze. "I know I deserve that," he says quietly. "My other reason for coming here… I wanted to apologize for what I did to you... the things that I said."

Orli waits for his latest coughing spell to subside before responding. "You're not the first to say those things to me, and I doubt you'll be the last. I guess I just expected more from you." He hugs himself a bit tighter. "Against my better judgment it seems."

"I'm so sorry, Orli. That wasn't me..." Eric exhales with a sad, defeated sigh. "I mean, I know it was me… it’s just… I'm a different person when I drink."

"Aren't we all?" Orli steps around Eric and shuts the door behind him, the night air making his chilled body even colder.

Relieved that Orli isn't kicking him out, Eric continues to try and explain his horrific behavior the other night. "Yes, I suppose so, but it's even worse in my case. I'm an alcoholic, Orli. I'd been on the wagon for months until that night."

"Except for that bottle of champagne we polished off the time before that right?" Orli's heard all the excuses in the book when it comes to bad behavior, and he isn't letting Eric off that easily.

"What? We barely drank a glass each before we..." Eric clamps his mouth shut and lowers his eyes. There’s not point in arguing the details. He knows that alcoholics shouldn’t drink at all. "I know you have no reason to believe anything I tell you. I know I've crushed whatever trust or feeling you might have had for me. But I still needed to tell you that I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Orli says quietly, hearing the pain in Eric's voice. "But I don't think you should call for me any more."

Eric squeezes his eyes shut; Orli's last words almost a physical pain. "All right," he replies quietly.

"I won't put anything in your file, so if you want to still use the service, no one has to know about what happened." Orli averts his eyes, unable to look at Eric's face.

Eric opens his eyes. The pain in his chest deepening as Orli comes into focus. "Thank you. But I won't be calling the service any more." Knowing that this may be his last chance to talk to Orli this way, he continues. "You're the only one that I ever wanted."

"Do you know how many men say that to me?" Orli asks wearily.

"No. And I don't want to know because they don't matter to me," Eric replies sharply. "I don't expect you to believe me, but I'm a fool enough to need to try and say it anyway, okay? I'm not like those other men. I care for you. I have from the first moment I saw you. Before I ever called the service. Before I knew what your job was."

"Then why were you hiring a rent boy instead of asking me out? That seems a much easier solution than hoping the man of your dreams turns up on your doorstep."

Eric runs his hand back through his hair and gives a tired sigh. "Because I thought I was doing the right thing and instead I end up doing the very worst thing, that's why."

Orli sighs, mentally too tired to be having this conversation. "Listen. I'm exhausted, sick, and really wasn't expecting you to show up here. If I agree to meet you for coffee or something when I'm feeling more human can we just leave this for now?

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry," Eric says, instinctively reaching out to take Orli's arm. "Can I get you anything before I go though? Do you need medicine? Something to eat?"

"I think I'm okay at the moment," Orli says, not pulling away. "I went to a couple classes this week and stocked up while I was out."

"Let me see you back to bed." Eric's voice is soft as he looks at Orli pleadingly.

Orli nods silently though he knows he shouldn't. He takes Eric's hand and turns toward his bedroom.

Grateful when he isn't sent away, Eric follows as Orli leads him into his bedroom. Orli looks like a lost waif in his oversized flannel pants and long sleeve shirt and Eric waits as Orli crawls into bed before he helps him pull the covers up under his chin. Taking a seat on the side of the bed, Eric reaches up to smooth back a dark curl hanging over Orli's forehead, taking note of how heated Orli's skin is. "You have a fever."

"I know," Orli says as he burrows further under the covers. "You sound like my mum."

Eric smiles. The first time in many days. _It's because all I want to do is take care of you. I love you._

"Are you sure I can't get you anything?"

"Just lock up on your way out?" Orli's eyes blink slowly, feverish sleep already overtaking him.

"I will," replies Eric. "Please call me. When you want to meet for coffee."

"I will," Orli whispers, closing his eyes.

Leaning over, Eric kisses Orli's forehead before he gets up to leave. He lets himself out quietly and makes sure the door is locked, his heart aching even more than before when he finds himself leaving Orli again.

~*O*~*O*~*O*~

Orli settles into one of the pair of armchairs that reside in the farthest corner of the campus coffee shop. He’s finally started to feel human again but the mountain of homework he needs to catch up on never seems to get smaller. He glances at his watch and sees that he has a few minutes before Professor Bana is due to meet him so he cracks open a book and tries to study.

His eyes skim across the page, words going into his brain and then right back out as his thoughts drift to his professor. He'd been ready to write the other man off as just a lesson learned, but he can't forget the sadness and regret Eric exhibited on his doorstop. Shaking his head slightly he tries to tell himself that it is just too little too late but he also can't seem to hold on to the anger he felt that night.

"Orli?" Eric asks quietly when he sees that the other man is lost in his thoughts. "Hey," he continues with a soft smile when Orli looks up at him. Eric takes a seat in the other armchair. "Thanks for agreeing to meet with me."

"Hey," Orli responds with a smile, setting his book aside. "I was just thinking about you actually. Seems I made you appear."

"Really?" Eric smiles with the idea that he was in Orli's thoughts. "You look good. Feeling better I hope?"

"Finally. I thought I'd never shake that. Worst time of the semester to be sick too." Orli picks up his coffee cup and cradles it in his hands.

Eric nods in agreement. He knows how busy it can be for him as a professor so he understands how it is for his students as well. The end of the semester is always a hectic time. "Catching up with your classes I see," he says with a nod toward the stack of books by Orli's chair.

"Trying at least," Orli smiles. He can tell that they are dancing around actually talking about anything that matters, but he keeps the conversation light for the moment. "I have this huge lit paper to finish," he laughs. "Don't know what the prof was thinking..."

Eric laughs and nods his head. "I keep forgetting that I have to actually grade all those papers I assign." He rubs his hands along his pants legs, building up his courage to say what’s foremost in his mind. "Orli... I was so glad when you called me. I really wanted another opportunity to apologize. For everything."

Orli nods, not really knowing what to say. "I know that wasn't the real you that night."

"I don't have any excuses for the way I behaved but I did want just one more chance to explain and I'm glad that you're giving it to me." Eric takes a deep breath before he continues. "I do have a problem with drinking, but I stopped one time, I'm sure I can do it again. I haven't had another drink since that night. But I've told you all that... what I really wanted you to know is _why_ I was drinking that night."

"Okay," Orli says softly, feeling that Eric needs to get off his chest, even if it won't make a difference in how he feels about what happened that night.

"The truth is… I was jealous. I had called for you the night before the last time you came and you weren't available. I started thinking about who you were with and what you were doing with them and I looked for my escape from those thoughts in a bottle. By the time you arrived, my jealousy had evolved into the need to hurt you. To try and make you feel the pain that I felt at the thought of you with another man." Eric sighs, pausing to take another deep breath. "This isn't something I'm proud of, Orli. It's hard for me to admit to doing these things to you when what I really feel is..." Eric's voice breaks and he runs a shaky hand back through his hair as he looks away.

Orli is glad that Eric averts his eyes; it makes it easier to say what needs to be said. "What you're feeling is fleeting. It's not uncommon to have feelings like that for someone you’re having sex with," he says flatly. "But it will pass. It always does." Orli's stomach twists at the harshness of the words, knowing they'll hurt the other man, but he also knows that as much as he returns Eric's feelings, this can never work out well for them.

"You don't believe that I really care for you," Eric says quietly, his tone resigned.

"I'm fully convinced that you _believe_ you care about me. But I think that the person you care about doesn't really exist. You care about this person you've idolized and fantasized about, this perfect version of me. A version that doesn't really exist. And when you came face to face with reality the night I was with another client, you couldn't handle the discord." Orli keeps his voice low, mindful of the students surrounding them.

Eric looks up, his eyes meeting Orli's. "You're wrong."

Orli raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.

"You may not want to believe it, but what I feel for you is real. I love you, Orli. I fell in love with you before you ever showed up at my door that night.

"What was there to love? Other than staring at me every day in class, what did you know about me? How could you fall in love with someone you'd only exchanged a few words with?"

Puzzled by Orli's almost combative response to his admission, Eric just smiles. "Not much of a romantic then I take it." He leans forward in his seat and speaks softly so that only Orli can hear him. "So you really find it unfathomable that I could have fallen in love with you just by seeing your smile. Hearing your laugh. Reading your words. Admiring your intelligence. Enjoying your sense of humor. You really think that there's nothing about you that I could love?"

Orli shakes his head and looks away, Eric's words cutting him to the bone. He can feel his cheeks flush and he stubbornly tries to will the heat away. "Romance was never my thing," he lies.

"That's a shame. You should be romanced often. And by someone who can appreciate you for the wonderful person that you are."

"I get romanced all the time. It's just that they've paid for my company so it's really a sham." Orli tries to raise his defenses again after Eric's words hit so close to home.

"I think we both know that's not romance. It's your job. But I'm not talking about your job," Eric continues quietly. "I needed to tell you how I feel, Orli. Whether you believe me or not is not something that I can’t control, but I had to tell you."

"So where do we go from here?" Orli realizes he's been clutching his coffee cup so long the liquid has gone cold. He sets it aside and settles further back into the chair.

"Where we go from here depends on you. And how you feel... about me."

"I don't know what I feel," Orli answers honestly. "I know I wasn't disappointed that it was you that opened the door that night. I know I smiled when I saw your address pop up the second time around." He pauses for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "But I also know how I felt after I ran out of your house that night. And how I felt the next time I thought about going to your class. Right now I don't know how to reconcile those feelings."

"I can understand that. I said a lot of hurtful things that night. I can't deny it. All I can do is to never let it happen again." Eric reaches over, his hand open to Orli. "Less than two weeks and you won't be my student any more. I'd like very much to still be able to see you after that. If you're willing."

Orli slips his hand into Eric's grasp, against his better judgment but unable to resist. "Between the mountains of make up work I have to do and studying for finals, I need to be concentrating all my free time on school for the next few weeks. Why don't you give me a call after finals and we'll see how things stand." Orli's voice is hopeful, yet uncertain.

"I'll do that," Eric smiles, giving Orli's hand a soft squeeze.

~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~

It's been three days since the last day of term and only a week left until Christmas. Eric has tried to be patient as he said he would but he can't wait any longer. He dials Orli's number, holding his breath when he hears the first ring.

Orli is still curled up in bed when he hears his phone start to vibrate on the nightstand. He's always been a bit of a night owl, but since the term ended he'd been enjoying even later mornings, well afternoons really, in bed. He rolls over and gropes for the phone, his heart thumping when he sees the display. "I'd given up on you calling," he says when he flips open the phone.

"You mean my efforts to be patient for the last three days have been entirely futile?" asks Eric who immediately smiles at just the sound of Orli's voice on the phone.

"I'm amazed you made it three whole days. Did someone duct tape you to a wall or something? Hide your cell phone? Knock you out?" Orli stretches like a cat before pulling the covers back up to his chin.

"No. None of those," Eric chuckles softly. There's a moment of awkward silence then Eric speaks again, his voice quiet and steady. "I'm dying to see you again."

"Personally or professionally?" Orli asks quietly, crossing his fingers as he waits for an answer.

"Personally. Just meet me for coffee again. Or I'd love to take you out to dinner if you'll let me. Nothing more, no expectations."

Orli lets out the breath he's been holding and quickly agrees. "Dinner would be great."

"Yes, great!" Eric is ecstatic when Orli agrees. "When can I pick you up? Or if you'd rather meet me there..." He doesn't want to push because he knows that Orli is fiercely independent and just because he's been given this new opportunity doesn't mean he should push his luck.

"Did you have somewhere in mind?" Orli debates what he wants to do. On the one hand it would be fun to have a guy pick him up at his door for once instead of the other way around, but he also doesn't want to be stuck somewhere with no way home if things don't work out the way he hopes.

"Do you like French food? There's a new restaurant in the Warehouse District that I've heard a lot about. Herbsaint. Would you like to try it?"

"Sounds wonderful. You really don't mind picking me up? I know it's out of your way..."

"Not at all. I'll make a reservation for 8:30 and I'll be there around 8:00, all right?" Eric's heart beats faster with the assurance that he will be seeing Orli again tonight.

"I'll be ready," Orli responds. For what, he isn't sure, but he wants to try and make things work.

~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~

Eric pulls up to the curb in front of Orli's apartment and turns the key to kill the engine. He gets out of the black Lexus sedan and straightens his suit coat then fidgets with the tie he's wearing. He wanted to look good for his date with Orli and he hopes the dark charcoal gray suit is the right choice. Climbing the rickety wooden stairs two at a time, Eric reaches the top and takes another deep breath to steady his nerves before knocking.

Orli is still in the bathroom when he hears Eric knock. He's been fiddling with his hair for the last thirty minutes, trying to work off his nervous energy. A quick dash of cologne and then he's off down the hall, sliding his jacket off the back of the chair as he passes. He opens the door and finds Eric looking as nervous as he himself feels. "You remembered how to get here," he smiles.

"Yes," Eric nods, a goofy grin coming to his face the moment he sees Orli. "You look wonderful," he adds softly as he takes in Orli in a white dress shirt with an open collar, black pants and suit jacket.

"Thank you." Orli makes sure the door is locked and the deadbolt secured before they pick their way carefully down the steps. He looks up when the lights on Eric's car flash as he unlocks the door. "Wow. You travel in style."

"It gets me where I need to go," replies Eric as he pulls the door open for Orli. When his date is safely inside, he shuts the door and hurries around to the driver's side. He slides in behind the wheel, cranks the car and they're off as Eric maneuvers his way through the narrow streets in The Quarter.

Orli sneaks a look at Eric as he drives, his face lit unevenly by the passing lights. The suit he wears is cut impeccably, and is obviously expensive. The car cost more than his tuition bill. 

_What am I doing with him?_ Orli thinks to himself. _I don't fit into this world._

Eric senses Orli's gaze on him. He glances toward Orli and smiles. "Are you glad that the term is over?" he asks as he drives.

"I always am. During the last two weeks of a term I start wondering why I'm putting myself through this." Orli looks back out the window, but he can see Eric's reflection in the glass. "I end up going back again the next time around so I guess I’m just a glutton for punishment," he laughs.

"You sound like me. I go through that same cycle yet I'm always there when the beginning of a new term comes around." Eric eases his way down Canal then heads for the Warehouse District.

"You have your writing to fall back on though, right? If you ever needed to take a break you could just do that for a semester while you rested and recharged."

"I suppose I could. I wouldn't want to risk losing my position though so I probably wouldn’t try that until I have tenure."

Orli studies Eric's profile in the shadowed light of the car. "They'd be fools not to grant you tenure. You have such a dynamic teaching style."

"You really think so?" Eric asks bashfully.

"I do." Orli reaches out and brushes his fingers over the back of Eric's hand where it rests on the gearshift.

Eric is glad that it's dark in the car because he can feel the heat of a blush on his cheeks. "I like being a teacher. It's what I've always wanted to do."

"What do you like better?" Orli asks. "Teaching or writing?"

"Teaching. The writing gets too hard sometimes..." Eric keeps his eyes on the road as he continues. "Hence the drinking."

"Well since we celebrated about your latest book, I'd venture that you manage to be successful despite your struggles?"

"I have. Thanks to a very strong support team. My editor..." Eric laughs softly, shaking his head. "She's down right ruthless when she wants something and really quite capable of keeping me completely in line."

"She sounds like exactly what you need," Orli laughs.

"As much as I'd like to, I can't argue that point at all. You already know me much too well to buy into my excuses." Eric lets out a soft chuckle as he turns onto the street where the restaurant is located.

"I have spent three hours a week all semester long listening to you talk. It does help give me some valuable insight."

Eric almost mentions the fact that Orli has much more insight than the time they've spent in class, but he's not willing to risk the easy going rapport they have right now to bring up anything that might be a bad reminder.

They pull to a stop in front of the restaurant and the uniformed valet opens Orli's door. He steps out and waits by the curb for Eric to hand over the keys and join him on the sidewalk.

Eric rounds the car and places a protective hand on Orli's elbow as they enter the restaurant. "I hope they don't speak French because mine sucks," he whispers as the maitre'd greets them before showing them to their table.

Orli grins and returns the man's greeting in passable French, watching Eric's face. "We'll be just fine," he laughs once they are seated.

"I'm thinking that I should let you order for me since you speak the language. Just no snails, okay?" Eric teases as a waiter fills their water glasses and gives them their menus.

"They require three semesters of language for writing majors," Orli explains. "And I knew a bit of French growing up so it seemed a natural choice. I promise I won't order anything too exotic."

"And we can order a bottle of wine if you like. I won't indulge, but it wouldn't bother me if you'd like some with your dinner?"

"No, I'm fine without." Orli knows a restaurant this fancy is bound to be expensive and he won't waste Eric's money on something that will just be a temptation for his date.

Eric just smiles and nods before returning his attention to the menu. "So what looks good?" he asks, pleased to see the menu is in English.

"Everything," Orli says, looking at Eric's face, not the menu.


	4. Chapter 4

The valet hands Eric his keys as he opens the door for Orli. Once he's back behind the wheel, it occurs to Eric that he doesn’t anywhere near want his evening with Orli to end. Putting the car in gear, he pulls away from the restaurant and drives to the end of the street. A left turn will take Orli back home. A right turn will take them to Eric's house. 

Clearing his throat before he can form the question, Eric turns to Orli and asks, "Would you like to come back to my house for a while?"

Orli smiles, relaxing back into the plush leather seat. "I'd like that a lot, actually."

Eric smiles happily, taking the right turn toward the Garden District and his house. "I'll drive around a bit first if you like. To look at the Christmas lights."

Orli's face lights up but then he blushes and looks away. "Only if you want," he says softly, feeling silly for loving such a childish thing.

"Yes, I'd like to. I haven't had a chance to see them yet this year," says Eric as he turns onto St. Charles.

Orli stares out the window at the stately mansions, tastefully decorated for the holidays. The lights shimmer and flicker as they pass and he slowly reaches over and takes Eric's hand as they take in the sights.

"I like the white lights best." Eric looks over at Orli as he gives the soft hand in his a gentle squeeze.

"Me too," Orli smiles. "It suits these old houses."

"It does. Classic. But the color lights are kind of fun, too. Guess we see enough of those at Mardi Gras though," Eric chuckles as he makes a U-turn on St. Charles and heads back toward Carondolet.

"Makes this time of year special. More subdued," Orli laughs gently. His heart beats faster when Eric turns, heading back for the house.

"Spending time with you is making it special for me," Eric tells him.

Thankful for the darkness to hide his flushed cheeks, Orli murmurs his thanks and watches out the window as they pull up to Eric's darkened house. "No lights for you?" he asks.

"Actually, I do have some. Just need to turn them on. Rosetta, my housekeeper, she doesn't allow any Bah-humbugness around here during the holidays." Eric pulls the car into his garage and kills the engine. "Home Sweet Home," he murmurs with a smile.

"Before we go inside..." Orli pauses and swallows hard, knowing they need to get this out of the way. "I want to lay down a ground rule."

Eric pulls back the hand he had on the door handle. "All right," he replies quietly.

Orli can tell Eric is nervous and he shares the tension. "Once we go inside, I don't want to talk about my job, or what happened between us the last time I was here, okay? I've had a wonderful time so far tonight and I'd like that to continue."

Eric had wanted to talk to Orli about those things, but making the beautiful young man who is looking at him with those big, hopeful, brown eyes unhappy is the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. "Okay," he smiles. "If that's what you want."

"Just for tonight. I promise we can revisit the rules later." Pushing open the car door, Orli stands up and stretches his arms up over his head, arching his back. "I love your car but the seats are so comfy they about put me to sleep," he laughs.

"Come inside then. There's a leather rocker recliner in my study that you might like." Eric hits the button to close the garage door then unlocks the door to the kitchen, stepping aside to let Orli enter first.

Orli waits until Eric steps into the kitchen behind him and then he pushes in closer to the other man. "You trying to get me to fall asleep?" he asks in a flirty voice.

"Yes. If it means that you'll stay with me," Eric answers softly, reaching out to caress Orli's cheek.

"You have to let me repay you first for the lovely evening," Orli whispers before sliding his hand around the back of Eric's neck and pulling him into a heated kiss.

The feel of Orli's lips against his again is the sweetest sensation. Sliding his arms around Orli's waist, Eric tugs him into a tight embrace as their kiss deepens.

Orli arches his back, pressing his entire body along the length of Eric's frame. He's missed how this feels, this _wanting_ to be consumed and possessed by someone rather than just biding his time to get through it.

Pulling back, Eric stares at Orli, his large hands framing the other man's face as he looks into his eyes. He wants to tell Orli that he doesn't need to repay him for anything. Everything Eric has, he would gladly give to make Orli happy. He needs to let him know that he wants to be with him always. To keep him safe. Eric caresses a sculpted cheekbone with his thumb and whispers, "I love you, Orlando."

Eric's words make Orli's stomach twist. _You only **think** you love me._ "Take me to bed," Orli murmurs, turning his head to suck the tip of Eric's thumb between his lips.

A man of his word, Eric doesn't say any more about what he wants for Orli. He snakes an arm around Orli's waist and leads him toward the staircase. At least for tonight, Eric knows that Orli is safe and with someone who cares about him. He'll worry about tomorrow in the morning.

~*O*~

Awakening in his bed with an armful of sleeping Orli, Eric doesn't move for a long time, simply enjoying the feel of the other man in his arms. When Orli finally shifts in his sleep and Eric thinks that he might wake up, he decides to give his young lover something special to wake up to. Diving beneath the covers, Eric crawls to the foot of the bed where he begins the leave a scattering of soft kisses along Orli's toes, feet and ankles.

Orli starts when he feels Eric's mouth on his skin and it takes him a moment to remember where he is and that he's not working. He lifts up the blankets and looks down at the top of Eric's head. "Good morning," he says, his voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning," replies Eric, looking up at Orli with a warm smile, his hands sliding up along the back of Orli's calves before he lowers his head again to place a soft kiss on Orli's knee.

"Didn't get enough of me last night?" Orli teases, folding the sheets back so he can see Eric's face.

Eric pauses, lifting his eyes to look at Orli again. "If there is one thing that you can always be assured of, my love. It's that I can never. _Never ever._ Get enough of you."

 _There's that word again._ Orli reaches down and wraps his fingers around Eric's wrist, trying to pull him up into his arms.

"No wait," Eric protests. "Just relax. Let me do this for you," he croons.

"You don't need to," Orli protests softly, feeling like Eric is trying to prove something that doesn't need to be proven.

"I know I don't _need_ to. I want to." Eric takes Orli's hand, rubbing the palm with his thumb in smooth, soothing circles. "I was hoping with last night that it would be apparent that I want to be your lover."

"I know you do," Orli says softly, squeezing Eric's hand. "And I'm sorry I'm screwing it up."

"You're not screwing anything up, Orli," smiles Eric. "I'll stop if you want me to. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable."

"I don't want you to stop," Orli says quickly, his face flushing slightly. "I just didn't want you to feel like you needed to do something for me. What we did last night was good for me too, you know?"

"I enjoyed last night, too. Very much. This morning, however, I want to be for you. Just you." Eric caresses his hand along a slender, tanned thigh and drops another tender kiss against Orli's hip.

 _Just shut up before he decides you aren't worth it,_ Orli tells himself, cursing silently at his inability to let good things happen. He hesitates for a moment and then nods slowly before dropping his head back against the pillow.

Eric is puzzled by Orli's reaction to his attempts to give him pleasure without the expectation of anything in return but he doesn't let it deter him. Kissing his way over Orli's flat stomach, he pauses to gently mouth the trembling muscles before he moves higher to begin teasing Orli's nipple with just the tip of his tongue.

Orli lifts his hands to Eric's shoulders, fingers sliding in soft circles as he reminds himself to relax. _He wouldn't be doing this if he didn't want it,_ he promises himself and with a silent sigh his body finally starts to respond to Eric's ministrations.

"You have such soft skin," Eric murmurs as his lips travel over a satiny shoulder before he nibbles his way over to Orli's ear, gently biting and sucking on his lobe.

"Lots of lotion," Orli says with a smile, slowly regaining his footing again and feeling up to playful banter. "You can help me rub it on after my shower later."

"I'd love to. Rub it all over you. Every inch," Eric purrs, punctuating each softly spoken word with another kiss. "I'd like to take a shower with you, too. I have to admit to fantasies of you naked and wet in my shower."

"You've been dreaming about me for a long time, haven't you?" Orli slips his hand up to cup Eric's jaw. "Does the reality hold up to the fantasy?"

"I have a very vivid imagination and even I couldn't dream anyone better than you, Orli." Eric leans in, pressing his lips against Orli's for loving kiss.

Orli wraps his limbs around Eric tightly, twining their bodies together in every way. Their bodies are still sleep warm and their arousal heats them further as they start to arch and rock against one another.

 _He feels so good in my arms. So perfect and right. If only I could convince him of it._ Eric indulges in the heated kiss and their bodies sensually sliding against one another until he reminds himself that this is about Orli. Rolling Orli onto his back, Eric slips downward again and disappears beneath the duvet.

Twisting his upper body, Orli gropes for the strip of condoms they'd left on the nightstand the night before and shoves one down into Eric's hand as he arches into the other man's touch.

Consumed with desire to give pleasure to his young lover, Eric wasn't thinking about protection so he's silently grateful to Orli for the gentle reminder. He rolls the condom onto Orli's hardening erection before slowly swallowing him.

Orli moans when the heat of Eric's mouth surrounds him. It's been a long time since Orli was with a lover unselfish enough to do this and he intends to enjoy every second. Spreading his thighs wantonly, he rolls his hips slightly, encouraging Eric's teasing lips.

Wrapping his fingers around the base of Orli's cock, he sets a slow rhythm with his strokes as he teases around the head with his lips and tongue. The sounds that Orli makes run through him like burning sparks giving heat to his own desire but this is all about Orli's pleasure, not his own.

"You're good at that," Orli murmurs burying his fingers in Eric's dark hair.

Moaning around his mouthful of Orli, Eric doesn't stop to reply to the compliment. Instead, he cups Orli's balls, rolling and squeezing them gently as he continues to suck him. Orli lifts his head so he can watch Eric's lips sliding along his length, the blissful look on his face assuring Orli that everything is right between them. Eric's fingers slip lower, pressing against Orli's perineum at the same time as he relaxes his throat and takes Orli as deep as he can.

His head falling back, Orli's back arches with the sudden rush of pleasure. "Keep that up and this is gonna be over before you know it," he moans, urging Eric on.

Eager to experience the rush of making his young lover come undone, Eric continues to rub the tender area and slides lower to finger the sensitive skin surrounding Orli's opening.

Orli wraps one long leg around Eric's back and uses the leverage to pull himself harder against Eric's fingers. "So close," he whispers, torn between trying for more pressure against his hole and further penetration into Eric's mouth.

As if to tell Orli it's okay, Eric deep throats him again as one lubed finger slowly slides inside Orli's hole.

With Eric's name on his lips, Orli lets go of the surge of pleasure he'd been fighting back and spills into the latex that separates them. His muscles spasm and contract, his body laid open and bare under Eric mouth and hands.

Releasing Orli when the last of his shuddering pleasure has passed, Eric slides out of the bed and hurries to get a warm wash cloth. He returns to the bed to take care of the condom then gently clean his relaxed and sated lover.

Orli lies still until Eric returns. He smiles softly as Eric takes such good care of him. "Mr. Perfect," he teases, pulling Eric into his arms.

"You certainly are," murmurs Eric before he gives Orli a tender kiss.

"Did you sleep well? I hope I didn't wake you by being restless or anything." Orli lays his head on Eric's chest, his fingers stroking softly over Eric's stomach.

"Like a log. It's wonderful having you here with me." Eric's fingers find Orli's curls, threading through them softly.

"It was a wonderful night all around. Dinner was fabulous and the sex wasn't bad either." Orli tilts his head up so Eric can see he's joking. "Best date I've had in a long time."

"I'd take you out every night if you'd let me," Eric whispers, pressing another soft kiss to Orli's forehead.

"You'd get tired of me," Orli says, closing his eyes as Eric kisses him. "This thrill of the chase wears off after awhile."

"I don't want a chase, Orli. I only want someone to love." Eric puts a finger under Orli's chin and tilts his head so that he can look into his eyes. "I want to love you. If you'll let me."

"Can I be honest with you?" Orli manages to hold Eric's gaze for a moment before he needs to look away.

"Of course," replies Eric, his stomach tightening with apprehension.

"It scares me how easy it is for you to say that. You've fallen so hard so fast I worry I can't live up to your expectations." Orli continues to touch Eric, hoping the other man understands.

"I know it must seem sudden to you, but to me, it feels like I've been waiting for you forever and now that I've found you, I can't not try to keep you in my life." Eric covers Orli's hand with his and holds him close. "You have no way of knowing this but I'm not the kind of man who loves easily. Far from it. My only love affair has been with a bottle of Jack Daniels and you've seen what that toxic relationship did for me. But now I know I'm capable of so much more. I'm just hoping that you'll want to share it with me."

Orli tips his head up and lays a kiss along Eric's jaw. "I wish it was as easy for me. I've only been in love once in my life and it ended up hurting me so bad I vowed I'd never do it again."

"I can't promise that you'll never get hurt again, Orli, but I do know that what I feel for you is more than just a passing infatuation. I do love you. I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

"I guess the question is, can you live with having to be patient while I get to that point?" Orli props himself up on his elbows so he can look Eric in the eye.

"I'm not always as patient as I need to be, but if it's what you need..."

"After all, we've only been on one real date," Orli points out. "If you don't count the ones I was being paid to attend," he laughs.

"No more worries about that then. We'll have all the time to date that we want," smiles Eric.

"What do you mean?" Orli asks, his smile faltering slightly.

"When you quit your job. You'll have more time to spend with me." Eric gives Orli a look as if to say that he should have understood his meaning.

"Eric, I'm not quitting my job." Orli wonders if he missed something in their conversation. "I have tuition to pay, bills, all that."

"I know that, but I can help you take care of all of those things." Eric tells him. "I don't want you to do that job any more, Orli. Not if you're going to be with me now."

"No. End of discussion." Orli pulls away from Eric's embrace, rolling over onto his back. "I'm not quitting my job."

"What?" Eric stares at Orli in disbelief. "Why?"

"It takes a long time to build up a client base. If I quit my job and you decide to fall _out_ of love with me as fast as you fell _in_ love with me it would take me months to get built back up to the point where I could cover my expenses again. I've lived through being so broke I had nowhere to live, and I'm not doing it again."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," replies Eric. "I didn't realize that our relationship would put a crimp in your personal finances. Love is blind, but not broke, is that it?" Eric moves to sit on the side of the bed, shaking his head in stunned disbelief. "You can't really expect me to stand by and let you continue to fuck other men for money?"

"See why I said I didn't want to talk about this? There's no way you can understand that it's just work for me, it has nothing to do with how I feel about you." Orli sighs and sits up as well, figuring Eric is about to kick him out.

Eric turns his head to look at Orli. "But you don't have to do that kind of work. I can take care of you."

"You may want that now, but how long before I become a burden? I know you think you love me, and I hope that the feelings are real, I really do. I think you are an amazing man and have such a capacity for caring. But I'm also a realist, and I've been down this road before. I have to protect myself Eric, and if you truly care about me you'd see that."

"What I see is an opportunity for you to have another kind of life. A life with me, Orli. Is it that you _can't_ stop doing that job or is that you just don't _want_ to stop?"

Orli looks up sharply at Eric's question. "That sounds like you think I'm a slut or something. That it's just a happy coincidence that I can get money for going out and fucking every guy I see. Is that what you think about me?"

"Tell me what I'm supposed to think when I offer you a way out and you throw it back in my face." Eric turns away again.

Pushing back the covers, Orli stands and starts to gather his clothes from where they were thrown in a bout of passion the night before. "That's what this is all about isn't it? Some sort of ‘Pretty Woman’ fantasy where you rescue the hooker from their sordid life and then live happily ever after?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You want to know what this is about? I'll tell you what this is about. It's about wanting to commit myself to you. In every way. And you not wanting to commit to me."

"I've only known you for a few months. You've only been anything other than my professor for a few weeks. Last night was our first date. Excuse me if I'm not ready to commit to spending the rest of my life with you!" Orli yanks on his pants and shoves his arms into his shirt, not bothering to do up the buttons.

Eric gets to his feet and rounds the bed. "So taking some more time while you continue to sell yourself to other men is the way to strengthen our relationship?"

"It's just a job!" Orli is practically yelling now, needing nothing more than to be out of this room and this situation. "I need to go."

Eric blocks Orli's way when he tries to leave. "It's not just a job. Working at the book store or the coffee shop is just a job. Letting men that you care nothing about fuck you for money is NOT. A. JOB."

"In case you don't remember because you were too busy being a drunken asshole the last time we talked about it, having a _normal_ job isn't an option for me. Unless of course you want me to get sent back to England. I'm sure that can be arranged."

Eric takes Orli by the arm. "And if you weren't so determined to be a stubborn brat, I'd remind you that I told you I would help you financially."

"I don't need your charity," Orli says bitterly shaking off Eric's grasp and ducking under his arm and out into the hallway.

Grabbing his pants from the back of the chair, Eric struggles to pull them on as he follows Orli out of the bedroom. "What you're really trying to say is that you don't need ME!" he yells after him.

Orli is already halfway down the stairs but Eric's words pull him up short. "I didn't say that at all," he says without turning around.

Eric stops at the top of the staircase when Orli pauses on the stairs. He takes a ragged breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "You don't have to go," he says quietly.

"I think I do." Orli says softly, turning to look over his shoulder. "Before either of us says anything else we'll regret."

"I don't regret telling you how I feel."

Orli nods, unable to find words to respond. He turns and continues down the stairs, feeling Eric's eyes staring at his back.

Silently hoping that something - anything - will make Orli turn around, Eric watches the man he loves walk out of his door. And out of his life.

~*O*~*O*~

Gerry hops off the street car and strolls up Eric's walk. He hasn't seen his friend out and about since the end of the term and while he was in the neighborhood he thought he'd stop by. The house is fairly dark but Gerry knocks anyway, hoping he'll find Eric at home.

Eric answers the door and a smile comes to his face when he sees that it's his friend. "Hey! Come in!" he greets Gerry, waving him inside. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" asks Eric as he closes the door behind Gerry.

"I was in the neighborhood," Gerry says with a grin. "Couldn't resist stopping in. Haven't seen you since finals week."

"I'm guessing that you didn't make it home for the holiday this year then?" Eric leads Gerry into the living room and gestures for him to take a seat.

"Nah. I was never one for sentimental holidays. Plus it's too damn cold back home in December." Gerry sits down on the couch and stretches his legs out in front of him.

"I can't believe it's already time to go back to work next week." This holiday has felt especially lonely for Eric. He hasn't spoken to or heard from Orli since they argued the last time he was here.

"Time flies when you spend it in bed with your new paramour?" Gerry asks, hopeful that the reason for Eric's absence has been a good one.

Eric shakes his head, his smile slipping. "Actually, I haven't seen Orli since before Christmas."

"By your choice or his?" Gerry inquires softly.

"Both, I suppose. I haven't tried to contact him and he hasn’t called me." Eric takes a seat in the chair next to the couch. "We argued the last time he was here."

"Do you want to talk about it or would you rather I distract you?" Gerry can't read Eric's take on the situation and doesn't know what to offer his friend.

"There's not much to say really. I offered what I thought was a positive solution to something that he doesn't even believe is a problem, so..." Eric shrugs, a smirking smile on his lips. "And by distract, do you mean take me out and get me drunk and/or laid?"

Gerry laughs, but he can tell Eric is covering for something that hurt him deeply. "If that's what it takes."

"Well, I'm back on the wagon again and I'd kind of like to stay there if I can. As for getting laid..." Eric shakes his head and gives Gerry a look that says everything. He's still totally hung up on Orli and no other man will do.

"I'm glad to hear that," Gerry pauses, and then rushes on when Eric looks up, hurt. "The first part I mean. The second part sucks."

"He didn't believe me, Gerry."

"Believe what?"

"He didn't believe me when I told him that I love him."

Gerry shakes his head slowly, not knowing what to say to ease Eric's pain. "He's a fool for passing up someone like you."

"I've been telling myself that it's just because of what he does. He can't trust it because the one time he did, he got screwed over, so now he can't let himself believe it when it's real and standing right in front of him." Eric's tone shifts and changes from sad to bitter to resigned. "All I wanted to do... what I _want_ to do is take care of him and love him. Is that so bad?"

"It's not bad at all," Gerry says gently, reaching out to lay his hand on Eric's arm. "He has to see how much you care for him. You can hear it in your words and even your voice."

"If he heard it then it still wasn't enough to keep him from walking out that door." Eric waves his arm toward the front entry then sighs in defeat. "I'm sorry Gerry. Here you drop by for a visit and all I'm doing is whining like some lovesick asshole. Can I get you something to drink?"

"I'm fine," Gerry says, not wanting to provide any incentive for Eric to fall back off the wagon. "And you aren't being an asshole...although you may very well be lovesick," he teases.

"You sure? I have some of that O'Douls beer in the fridge?" offers Eric.

Eric can't help but make a face. "No thanks," he laughs. "Drowning your sorrows in fake beer?"

"No. I can't stand the stuff, but Rosetta keeps buying it for me," Eric laughs. The first genuinely happy sound he's made in quite a while.

"I'm sure she's trying to be helpful. I'm guessing you've been a bear to have around the house since break started."

"Who? Me?" Eric attempts an expression of innocence and fails miserably. "A teddy bear maybe."

"I think you should call him," Gerry says firmly, knowing that Eric can't continue on like this forever.

"I want to," admits Eric. "But I can't. It's his choice not to be with me."

"And you can live with letting him go?"

"I'll have to. I can't make him love me, Gerry."

Gerry nods and gives Eric's arm a squeeze. "He may still come around. There's always hope."

Eric gives his friend an appreciative smile. "Always knew you were a romantic."

 

~*O*~*O*~*O*~

 

Orli knocks on the door, glancing over his shoulder as he waits for an answer. The neighborhood is more run down than his usual calls, but he knows that many men don't like their tricks to know where they live so Orli tries to keep an open mind. 

The door opens and the scruffy man beckons him in with a grunt and Orli steps into the dim apartment. The furnishing is sparse, just a couch and a lamp. Orli smiles warmly, trying to draw some sort of response out of the man. He shrugs out of his jacket and hangs it on the door knob. 

"So..." the other man says, stuttering over his words slightly. "You'll have sex with me for money, right?" 

It's an odd question and Orli pauses for a moment. He trusts the service implicitly to vet their clientele carefully, so he chalks up the oddity of the situation to the other man's nervousness. "If that's what you want," Orli says, stepping closer. "I'm here to make you happy," he smiles.

"Sex is what I want," the man says with a nod, holding out a wad of cash. Orli slips it into his pocket after thumbing through it quickly. 

"Then you'll get it," Orli purrs, sliding his hand down the other man's arm. The man turns his hand and grabs Orli's wrist, quickly twisting and shoving it up behind Orli's back. 

"You have the right to remain silent...."

 

~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~

The guard leads him down the hall and shoves him roughly toward a phone attached to the cinder block wall. 

“Two minutes,” he grunts before ambling over to speak to one of the other guards near the coffee pot. 

Orli frantically racks his brain for what to do with his one call. He knows better than to call the service, the cops would like nothing better than to trace his contact back to the source and have their names in all the papers for having brought down the prostitution ring. With a heavy heart he calls the one person he knows with the financial wherewithal to get him out of this predicament. 

Dull ringing comes across the line, sounding far away like he’s dialing another country. As the rings stretch further and further he realizes his call isn’t going to be picked up. He sighs and waits for the beep, rushing through his words to fit them all into the message.

“Eric, it’s Orli. I didn’t know who else to call…”

 

~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~

 

Orli doesn’t look up when the cell doors clang open; he keeps his face buried in his knees where they curl up tight against his chest. People have been coming and going from the holding cell all night and he’s long since given up hope that Eric will come for him.

“Bloom,” the guard calls out sharply. 

It takes a moment for his name to sink in and the guard is just about to bark at him again when he looks up. “Yeah?” he says weakly.

“Bail’s posted, you’re free to go.” 

A question rests on his lips but then he thinks better of it. He unfurls his legs, his muscles protesting from hours of sitting on the hard concrete and stumbles to his feet. The guard leads him down a dank hallway to the processing desk where sits a plastic bag with his personal effects. 

There’s paperwork to be signed and Orli stumbles through it numbly until a name jumps out at him from the forms. At first he thinks he’s just hallucinating after the long night but he blinks hard and the name remains there in black and white. He asks after the man who paid his way out and the bored woman at the desk points toward the door. 

Dashing through the rest of the papers Orli tumbles down the hall and through the heavy glass doors into the parking lot. Squinting into the bright sunlight, he finds he’s arrived just in time to see the back end of Eric’s car as it turns out of the parking lot. He takes a few jogging steps in the direction the car left but he knows it’s futile to try and catch up on foot.

 

~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~

 

Orli shifts uncomfortably at the table, looking over at the public defender next to him. The lawyer isn't doing much and Orli wishes yet again that he could suck up his pride and ask Eric for help. He is sure that the kind of lawyers Eric's money can provide could fix this in a matter of hours.

The prosecutor demands once more that Orli gives up his contacts at the service and Orli shakes his head yet again. Digging in his briefcase, the man across the table pulls out a folder and lays it open on the table. Orli recognizes the paperwork as his student visa, the documents that allow him to remain in the States. 

It rips him apart to know that he'll have to leave, but he also knows that his integrity, even if it's just the integrity of a whore, is something that can't be bought.

 

~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~*O*~

 

"Thank you," the attractive red head says again as Eric finishes his autograph then closes the book and hands it back to her. "Wonderful book," she says quickly with a smile before the assistant helps to guide her away from the table. 

"Dr. Bana will be taking a short break now. He'll resume the book signing in about fifteen minutes!" The assistant makes the announcement, tugging at the back of Eric's chair as his cue to stand up and make his exit. Smiling at the disappointed faces who are resigned to wait for his return, he turns and makes his way toward the back of the bookstore.

Orli steps out from behind the shelf where he's been lurking; paging through the same two books over and over while he waits for an opportunity to speak to Eric. He reaches out and catches Eric's sleeve as he passes, finding himself at a loss for words when the professor finally turns toward him.

Averting his attention when he feels the tug at his arm, Eric is surprised to see Orli standing there. Caught off guard not only by the fact it's Orli, but by the way he looks. It's only been a few short weeks since their argument before Christmas so Eric is stunned to see the usually vibrant and smiling young man looking tired and gaunt. 

"Orli? What's happened? Are you all right?" Eric asks urgently, a coil of fear tightening in his belly.

The concern in Eric's voice hits Orli hard and he instantly feels guilty for preying upon Eric's good nature yet again. "I'm fine," he lies quietly, the tall shelves of books giving them the illusion of privacy. "I just wanted to see you... to say thank you. I wasn't sure if you'd return my calls so when I found out you'd be here…"

Recalling what it is that Orli is thanking him for, Eric looks over his shoulder to make sure that no one is listening in on their conversation. He takes hold of Orli's elbow and guides him toward the back to the break room so they can have a moment of privacy. Once inside, he closes the door behind them and offers Orli a seat on the couch. 

"I would have returned your call," Eric says quietly, "but it's good to see you again."

"It's good to see you too," Orli says honestly. "I wanted to see you again before....well before I have to leave," he says with a heavy heart.

"Leave?" Eric asks in surprise. "Where are you going?"

"It's a long story," Orli sighs, raking his fingers through his unkempt hair. "When they arrested me, they wanted me to tell them about my employers. After all taking down a whole prostitution ring would be better than just one whore, right? When I wouldn't talk they started threatening to revoke my student visa. I don't know how to stop them."

Eric frowns when he hears Orli refer to himself as a whore. Even now, he has a hard time thinking of the young man he loves in that way. "They're trying to deport you?"

Orli nods, dropping his hands into his lap and looking up at Eric. "I couldn't stand the thought of leaving without saying goodbye, you know? Having you think I just disappeared with no word?"

"Orli, I…" Eric is interrupted by the assistant when she opens the door. 

"Five minutes, Dr. Bana," she says pointedly, staring at Orli questioningly until Eric responds with a nod. Eric reaches for one of Orli's hands when she's gone.

"I'm sorry, I don't have much time to talk..."

Orli nods, already getting to his feet. "Go meet your adoring public," he says with a warm smile that cracks through his tired features. "I won't forget all you've done for me. Thank you again."

"Orli, wait," Eric tightens his hold on Orli's hand as he gets to his feet, too. "Just wait here until I'm done and then we can..."

Orli shakes his head, knowing if he stays even five more minutes he'll want to stay forever. He ducks his head to hide the burning tears that fight to well up in his eyes. "Goodbye Eric," he says and slips through the door.

Eric stands in the empty room, staring at his hand, the warmth of Orli's skin still tingling in his palm.


	5. Chapter 5

Orli takes a deep breath and pushes the doorbell. He's clutching the legal documents that turned up in his mailbox today, the ones that sent him right to Eric's front door. He taps his foot against the porch, for the first time wondering what he will do if Eric isn't at home.

Just out of the shower, Eric hurries downstairs to answer the door. Running his fingers through his still wet hair, he pulls the door open, a smile curving his lips when he sees who it is. 

"Orli."

Orli looks up when the door flies open, his jaw dropping slightly at how handsome Eric looks with wet hair and casual clothes. It takes him a moment to regain his composure and when he does he thrusts the papers forward into Eric's hands. "You didn't need to do this for me."

Eric doesn't pretend not to know what the papers are. As soon as Orli had told him that he was being deported, Eric contacted his father who helped pull the proverbial bureaucratic strings and get Orli's visa renewed. 

"I do a lot of things that I don't _need_ to do," Eric smiles. "Would you like to come in?" he asks, still holding the papers in his hand.

Orli only hedges for a moment before stepping across the threshold. "Why?" Orli asks softly, almost fearing what Eric might want from him in return for this favor.

"Why what?" Eric closes the door and begins to read through the papers that Orli shoved at him.

"Why did you do it?" Orli reaches out and lays his hand across Eric's fingers, stilling him as he flips through the papers. He looks up into Eric's eyes, trying to see the answers to the questions that swirl in his brain.

"You know, for a top student, you're rather a slow learner when it comes to us, aren't you?" Eric smiles, shifting the papers to one hand and taking hold of Orli's with the other. "I love you, Orli," he says softly.

"This means you had to tell him though, right? Tell your father you were trying to save some whore that you'd fallen in love with?" Orli shifts forward, sliding his arms around Eric's waist and resting his forehead against Eric's shoulder.

"I told my father that I needed to help the young man that I've fallen in love with." Eric's arms tighten instinctively around Orli.

"And he agreed to help" Orli knows how contentious Eric's relationship with his father is and he can't imagine the strength it took to ask for a favor like this.

"Without question. I have to admit his reaction surprised me, but I guess I should have trusted him more. He's my father. And he loves me."

"How can I ever repay you?" Orli lifts his head, staring into Eric's eyes.

"You can repay me by being happy." Eric cups Orli's cheek, caressing his cheekbone with the pad of his thumb. "Even if that means going back to England, at least you'll be going on your own terms."

"And what do you get out of it?" Orli turns his head, kissing Eric's hand.

"Seeing you safe and happy. It's all I've ever wanted, Orli." Eric's hand slides into Orli's hair as he pulls him close for a passionate kiss.

Orli arches against Eric's warm body, whimpering softly into the kiss as all the emotions from the past week flow out of his body and he gives himself over to his lover's strong embrace.

"Missed you so much," Eric whispers against Orli's lips, his hands sliding beneath Orli's shirt with the need to feel his warm skin.

Orli knows they still have a lot to talk about if they want to make things work but right now he doesn't care. All he wants is for Eric to keep touching him like that. He lifts his arms over his head, letting Eric strip away his shirt.

Eric lowers his head, capturing Orli's mouth for another hungry kiss. Wrapping his arms around Orli's waist, he starts to lift Orli into his arms then hesitates. Eric pulls back enough to look at Orli's face. "I love you, Orli, but before we..." He frames Orli's face with his hands, searching his eyes. "I need to know what this means to you."

Struggling not to look away, Orli's chest constricts at the thought that Eric might not want what he has to offer. "I don't know for sure," he answers honestly, his breath hitching as his body continues to respond to Eric's intoxicating nearness. "But I know that I want to be here with you and I want to see if we can make it work."

Smiling as he gently kisses Orli's forehead, Eric takes a deep breath. "That's all I want, too. Just the chance to make this work."

"Take me upstairs now?" Orli asks with an impish smile, longing for Eric's kisses and touches to return.

"Gladly," replies Eric as he lifts Orli into his arms and heads toward the staircase. "I feel like Rhett Butler," he jokes, holding on tightly to Orli as he climbs the stairs.

"Does that mean I have to be Scarlett?" Orli asks, scrunching up his nose with a laugh. "I didn't know cross dressing was part of the bargain."

"Oh, I don't know... I think you'd look pretty damn hot in a corset," Eric jokes as he nudges the door to his bedroom open with his foot.

"I'll make you pay extra for that," Orli teases, nuzzling against Eric's neck.

"And it will be worth every penny and more," Eric whispers against Orli's ear as he takes a seat on the side of the bed, Orli still in his arms.

Orli shifts in Eric's lap, wrapping both arms and both legs around the other man. "What did I do to deserve you? I must have good karma left over from another life."

Eric lifts his hand to Orli's face, caressing his cheek then pushing back his hair. "Funny. I was just wondering the same thing," he smiles, pulling Orli closer so that he can give him a tender kiss.

Orli slides his hands down Eric's back, pulling him even closer as they kiss. "You're wearing too many clothes," he murmurs against Eric's lips when they part.

"Only one way to fix that..." Eric leans back, pulling his tee shirt up and over his head then tossing it on the floor.

"Much better," Orli says, leaning back just enough to drink in the sight of Eric's bare chest. "Now I can do this," he grins, leaning forward and licking Eric's nipple before biting it gently.

Eric murmurs approvingly as his hands slide up Orli's bare back. "You can do anything you want to. I'm all yours," he tells Orli, his voice low and gravely with desire.

"I think I remember saying that to you once," Orli says with a smile, reluctantly crawling out of Eric's lap so he can undo the button on his jeans.

Eric helps Orli out of his jeans then Orli helps him out of his. When they are both rid of their clothes, he grabs Orli, rolling him over in the large bed. "And now it's real. I'm yours and you're mine."

Orli stretches out in the bed, enjoying the softness of the sheets and the scent of soap on Eric's skin. "You mean it's not just a dream?" he says quietly, tracing his fingertips up Eric's arm.

"Oh, it's a dream all right. A dream come true." Eric smiles then presses his lips against Orli's, their kiss slowly increasing in its passion until they are both breathless and aching.

Pulling Eric on top of him, Orli bends his knees and traps Eric's hips between his thighs. Their erections slide against one another as Orli rocks his hips, pushing his heels against the bed. "You've been dreaming about being inside me again, haven't you," Orli whispers teasingly, enjoying the resultant pulse his words trigger in Eric's cock.

"Yes," Eric moans, taking hold of Orli's slender hips and pulling him up against him. "And you? Have you been dreaming of me?" he murmurs against Orli's warm skin as he licks and nips first his neck then his shoulder before moving lower to capture the tender flesh of Orli's nipple between his lips, teasing it relentlessly with the tip of his tongue.

"Yes," Orli nods, arching his back up into Eric's touch. "But I think you need to remind me..."

"Soon..." Eric croons, his mouth continuing its journey downward as he leaves a trail of kisses over Orli's chest and abdomen until he's nipping at the sharp angle of a beautiful bare hip. Eric's hands slip beneath Orli, raising him upward again as he nuzzles against the juncture of leg and groin, breathing in the scent that is uniquely Orli. His lips brush against Orli's balls, gently mouthing the tender skin before Eric rubs them along the silken and straining length of his cock.

Orli threads his fingers into Eric's hair, hips squirming under Eric's intimate assault. "You keep that up, it's gonna be _very_ soon," Orli chokes out, moaning softly.

"I've missed your scent, your taste," Eric purrs as rubs his cheek against Orli's cock as he slowly strokes him with his hand.

Biting his lip, Orli lets the words sink in, trying to trust his emotions enough to just take in all Eric wants to offer without wondering why. "I missed the way you make me feel."

Eric looks up at Orli, his hand still steadily stroking Orli's cock. "Tell me how that is. How do I make you feel?" he asks quietly.

"Loved." Orli whispers, leaning up so he can look down at Eric. Treasured… worthy."

"That's good," Eric smiles, "because you're all of those things." Lowering his head, Eric swallows Orli's length, moaning in satisfaction as he engulfs his lover in the warm wetness of his mouth.

Orli flops back against the bed and wriggles his hips, rocking wantonly up into the friction of Eric's lips.

Eric takes hold of Orli's hips again to keep him still. He takes his time, slowly withdrawing, dragging his lips and tongue down Orli's pulsing length before taking him deep again.

Whimpering, Orli twists his head and muffles his cries in the pillow. He isn't used to this type of attention and it takes all his effort to hold back as Eric keeps him trapped against the bed and slowly torments him with pleasure.

Releasing Orli's cock with a soft "pop", Eric looks up to watch Orli as he continues to lick and tease the head of his cock with his tongue. "Don't hold back, baby. Let it go," Eric croons before he returns his attention to the task at hand ~ making Orli come undone.

Orli tries to relax, reminding himself he's with a lover and that it's ok to let his guard down. He lifts his mouth away from the pillow, letting his soft cries fill the room as Eric expertly sucks him.

"So beautiful like this," whispers Eric as he tenderly laves the soft skin of Orli's sac while still steadily working his cock, capturing the pearly fluid already dripping from the slit with his thumb and using it to speed his strokes. 

Letting his hands slip from Eric's head, Orli digs his fingers into the sheets, his knuckles white and twisted. His back arching off the bed, Orli stutters out a cry of warning before his orgasm grips him and he spills into Eric's mouth. Licking and sucking at Orli's spent and sensitive cock, Eric finally releases him and slowly kisses his way up Orli's body until he can kiss his lover's lips and share the taste of his release with him.

Orli pulls Eric into a tight embrace, wrapping arms and legs around him. "You're amazing," he says with a sated smile.

"And I'm just getting started," replies Eric. "Unless you need some time..." he adds quickly, softly stroking Orli's face and hair.

Shaking his head, Orli presses a kiss to Eric's forehead. "I'm just fine. Perfectly fine in fact."

"Still want to feel me inside you?" asks Eric, kissing Orli's throat and nibbling on his ear lobe.

"Of course." Orli tilts his head back, giving Eric full access to his neck. "How do you want me?"

Eric is quiet as he thinks for a moment. He wonders how many times Orli has asked that question to his clients in the past, but reminds himself that's what it is. The past. "I want you always and forever," is his softly spoken answer.

Orli sees that hesitation in Eric's eyes and realizes what he said. "Sorry," he apologizes, holding Eric close. "Force of habit, it just came out."

"That's all right. Maybe I can help you break that habit," Eric says, pulling Orli close and kissing him again. "What do _you_ want?" he asks.

"I want you not to think about my past," Orli says between kisses. "I'm here with you now, and that's my choice. I want to be here."

"And that's how I want you. Here with me." Enfolding Orli in his arms, Eric rolls onto his back with Orli lying on top of him as they continue to kiss.

Orli enjoys the way his narrow frame fits together with the broad planes of Eric's body. "So now that you've got me here...."

"What? Do you just want me to say it then?" smiles Eric, before he kisses Orli again. "I want to fuck you... no... no... I want to make love to you. That's what I want now that I have you here. I want to make love to you."

"Then do it," Orli whispers with a wicked smile. "I want you to make love to me."

"So this is how it's going to be, eh?" Eric laughs rolling Orli back onto his back. "Who knew you were a bossy bottom?" he teases, covering Orli's mouth in breath-stealing kiss before he can respond.

Orli's playful protest is swallowed into the kiss but he doesn't mind as Eric's body covers him, pressing him into the mattress.

Reaching for the supplies in the bedside table, Eric takes his time in preparing Orli. He continues to stroke and stretch even when Orli tells him that he's ready. Eric isn't in the mood to rush through this, wanting to take his time and enjoy every nuance of his young lover's body, and each reaction that Orli has to his touch.

The way Eric feels about him is evident in the way he touches and cares for Orli and he savors it, enjoying the way it feels to be treasured like a gift. "In me," Orli urges, breath panting out as Eric's fingers press against his pleasure point.

Unable to hold back any longer, Eric rolls on a condom, quickly slicking it with lube before sinking into the welcoming heat of Orli's body. "Damn..." he exhales the word breathlessly, amazed that being with Orli this way could be any better and yet it is.

Orli hooks his heel against Eric's lower back, drawing him closer and further inside. Laying a trail of open mouth kisses along Eric's shoulder, Orli rocks into each of Eric's thrusts, joining their bodies together.

Eric rocks his hips, slowly thrusting inside the velvet heat of Orli's body as he nuzzles his face against his hair. "You feel so good," he whispers. His hands are on Orli's hips, tilting him upward as he pushes deeper inside him.

Orli squeezes his muscles around Eric's length, cradling him inside his body. "As good as you remember?" he asks softly.

"Better," rasps Eric, groaning in pleasure when he feels Orli's body drawing him deeper inside. "It feels like you were made for me."

"Maybe I was," Orli whispers. He slips his hands down Eric's back, feeling the muscles shift and twist under the skin as they move.

"No maybe to it..." Eric replies with a possessive growl. He wraps his fingers around Orli's cock and begins to stroke him as he angles his thrusts, searching for the position that will have Orli seeing stars.

Orli's hands grasp Eric's ass, working with him until they settle until just the right rhythm. He gasps as Eric's thrusts find their mark and he urges his lover on faster, driving them both toward completion. Working his hand faster on Orli's cock, Eric moans out loud at the sensation of Orli tightening around him when he climaxes, his release spilling over Eric's fist and onto Orli's stomach. His own body goes rigid with the tension before he cries out Orli's name, jerking and shuddering as he comes.

Struggling for breath, Orli doesn't let go of his tight hold on Eric. He feels open and vulnerable, something he's not used to feeling but he knows he's safe in Eric's arms.

"You're so beautiful when you come," Eric whispers next to Orli's ear as he holds him close. He doesn't pull out, not ready to break the intimate connection with Orli just yet.

"I'm beautiful because you make me that way," Orli murmurs, nuzzling against Eric's cheek.

Slowly and somewhat reluctantly, Eric finally pulls away to dispose of his condom. He pads to the bathroom, returning a moment later with a warm, wet cloth that he uses to wipe Orli's belly clean.

Orli stretches like a cat, sighing contentedly when Eric enfolds him back into his arms. He rests his head on Eric's chest, listening to the beat of his heart.

Eric yawns tiredly, losing the battle against his drowsiness. He tightens his hold on Orli and asks, "Are you going to stay with me?"

Nodding his head, Orli lets his eyes fall shut, content to stay the night right there in Eric's arms.


	6. Chapter 6

Blinking awake from the shaft of light peaking through the window blinds and falling across his cheek, Eric smiles drowsily as his arms tighten around a still sleeping Orli. He kisses Orli's temple, his smile widening against the soft, dark curls when he recalls how wonderful it is to not wake up alone in his enormous bed. Even better to awaken next to the man he loves. 

"Orli? Baby?" whispers Eric, his hand sliding over the bare curve of his lover's delectable rear end. Orli whimpers softly and buries his head further into the plush pillows, not ready to wake up just yet. Eric snuggles closer, spooning his slumberous bed mate as his hand continues to wander over Orli's soft, bed-warmed skin. He kisses Orli again and speaks sweetly right next to his ear. 

"Don't you want to wake up?" he asks softly, caressing a hand over Orli's hip.

Shifting into Eric's touch, Orli rubs his cheek against the soft pillowcase. "No," he murmurs, not really meaning it this time.

"I'm awake," Eric croons, pressing his fully roused erection against the cleft of Orli's ass.

"I can tell," Orli pretends to sigh, but ends up laughing. He pulls one knee up toward his chest and presses his hips back toward Eric wantonly. "I'll just take a nap here and you can let me know when you're finished."

Eric chuckles softly as he reaches for a condom. "I don't think so, love. You might not want to miss this by sleeping through it."

"Is that a promise?" Orli says sleepily, his body sleep-warm and pliant.

"It's a guarantee," replies Eric as he rubs his fingers between Orli's cheeks then slowly slides one finger in and out of his quivering hole.

Orli's breath catches as Eric's finger probes into him. "So far so good," he says softly, his body starting to respond to Eric's touches.

"Just wait, it gets better," Eric croons next to Orli's ear before he slips a second finger inside him, still slowly pushing them in then pulling them out in an intimate and rhythmic caress. Holding on to that last bit of sleep, Orli enjoys the feeling of just giving his body over to Eric, a feeling he hasn't let anyone have in a long time. With his eyes still closed, he turns his face slightly, knowing Eric is there behind him.

 _Damn. He's even gorgeous first thing in the morning,_ thinks Eric as he takes in the beautiful profile. He kisses Orli's cheek, his fingers slowly scissoring inside him.

Orli's lips part and his breath huffs out in small pants that match Eric's movements. "I'm ready," he murmurs, greedy to get Eric inside him.

"There's no rush, love. We have all morning." Eric crooks his finger just so and smiles when Orli arches in response.

"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be," Orli protests, Eric's fingers plucking him like a taut string. "Meanie."

Eric can't help but laugh softly at Orli's choice in name-calling. "If I were mean, would I do this?" he asks as he rubs his finger against Orli's pleasure point again.

Orli tries to say yes but the words are stolen by a moan as Eric's fingers work back and forth inside him. "Please," he manages to whisper, struggling not to come completely undone.

"You're so pretty like this," whispers Eric, brushing his lips against Orli's cheek. "Do you know how hard it makes me to see you like this? To hear you ask me to take you?"

Orli can feel the heat rise in his cheeks as he blushes slightly at the compliment. "Only you get to see me like this," he promises, letting Eric know how special he is.

Withdrawing his fingers, Eric presses the head of his latex covered cock against Orli's opening and slowly pushes inside the clenching heat of his body. "No one else," Eric moans possessively.

"I promise," Orli says, echoing Eric's moan and he's filled to the brim.

~*O*~

Orli lifts his arms and tilts his head back, letting the full force of the shower jets caress the last of the kinks out of his muscles. Eric's shower is expansive, like everything else in his house and Orli's never been in a shower quite like this. Jets come out of the ceiling and walls to hit every inch of his skin and he thinks he might just stay there forever before he remembers what's waiting for him downstairs. 

Reluctantly turning the knobs he shuts off the water and wraps himself in a towel that is kept warm by some fancy bar thing Eric turned on for him and smiles when he sees that Eric has laid out a pair of silk pajama pants for him. He dries off quickly and slips them on before heading downstairs in search of Eric.

"Hello?" he calls out, wandering through the halls.

"I'm in the kitchen!" answers Eric, looking up from buttering some toast to give Orli a bright smile when he walks into the room. "Those look nice on you," he says, pointing toward Orli's pajama pants with the butter knife.

"They feel nice too. Soft," he says with a smile. "Should I ask why you have a pair of these in my size lying around the house?"

"I bought them as a Christmas present," replies Eric, returning his attention to the toast. The holiday had been a rough one for Eric, not seeing Orli and worrying about his situation.

Orli doesn't know what to say, it's clear that Eric had planned for them to be together at the holidays. He leans over and plucks a slice of toast from where Eric is working, popping the corner into his mouth and munching thoughtfully.

"But you're here now, right?" Eric smiles before turning toward the stove where the pan he uses to make omelets is heating up.

"I am. And you aren't even paying me," he teases, sliding up behind Eric and planting a kiss on the back of his shoulder.

Eric is silent for a moment as he whips the small bowl of eggs and pours them into the pan. "I know that we haven't really talked about it, but with all that's happened..." He looks over his shoulder at Orli. "I hope that life's behind you now," he says quietly.

Orli slips his arms around Eric's waist and rests his chin on Eric's shoulder, watching him work. "It is. I haven't been with a client since the night before I got busted. Haven't been with _anyone_ since then, paying or non-paying. Until last night."

Eric releases a soft sigh and nods as he tends to the omelet to make sure it doesn't burn or stick. "I'm sorry that I had to ask. But after what you said last night... I just want to be sure where I stand."

"I want this to work," Orli says emphatically. "But it's not always going to be easy. There's no way I can erase my past and I can't make you not think about those things when we're together."

"It's been my experience that things that come easy are rarely worth having. I don't want to erase your past, Orli. I just want a chance to help write your future."

"And you want my future to be with you." It's a statement, not a question, but Orli still has a hard time believing it to be true.

"Yes. I do." Eric flips the omelet out of the pan and onto a plate. He turns off the stove and sets the pan aside then turns toward Orli, wrapping his arms around Orli's waist. "But only if you want that, too," he continues quietly.

"I think I want it," Orli says, knowing it's not exactly what Eric wants to hear, but needing to offer him the truth. "But I'm also scared to want it," he admits.

Eric nods, pulling Orli closer. "I know," he whispers. "I'm asking you to try though. To give me a chance."

"This is how my last relationship started." Orli looks up at Eric's confused face and can't help but laugh. "Well not exactly like this. He swept me off my feet, treated me like a prince. I'd just arrived for my semester abroad, didn't know a soul in the city and it was a whirlwind romance. I moved in with him practically right away and he's the one that urged me to extend my student visa and stay here." Orli reaches over to the omelet and breaks off a piece, carefully feeding it to Eric.

Eric kisses Orli's finger before he pulls it away. "I know he hurt you," whispers Eric. "And I can't change how that makes you feel. All I can do is hope that it won't keep you from letting yourself be loved and cared for again."

"He got tired of me," Orli says with a sigh. "I was utterly dependent on him and he decided that hooking up with a string of random boys at the club was far more interesting than the university student he found so fascinating just a few months earlier. It devastated me emotionally, physically, financially, in just about every way possible. I absolutely cannot go through that again."

"Orli..." Eric exhales deeply and shakes his head. "I don't know what to say to that. It was awful what he did. And more than anything I wish that you had never had to experience that kind of pain. But, baby... I'm not him."

"I know you aren't. But you needed to know why my natural instinct is to back away when you offer so much to me so quickly. It's not you, it's me." Orli scoops up more of the omelet, this time popping it into his own mouth.

"And my natural instinct is to want to take care of you. That's why I want you to move in with me. I know it has to be difficult for you financially now. Still in school. Expensive tuition. And no money coming in. I can help you."

"Will you give me time to think about it? I'm not ready to say yes, but I also know I don't want to say no. Can we leave the offer on the table for when I'm ready to take it?"

Eric's first instinct is to keep trying to convince Orli, but he reins himself in for fear of pushing his young lover away instead. "Okay. But the offer stands. Anytime you're ready."

"Thank you," Orli says, looking straight into Eric's eyes. "That means more to me than the offer itself."

 _Not nearly as much as you mean to me._ Eric lowers his head, pressing his lips against Orli's.

Orli tilts his face up into the kiss, relieved that they managed for once to get though a conversation like this without shouting or either of them leaving.

"Coffee or juice?" asks Eric, attempting a smile when he pulls away from their tender kiss.

"Coffee. I have a feeling if I spend many nights here I won't be getting much sleep," he teases.

Eric huffs then chuckles softly as he pours Orli a cup of coffee. "I can't help it if you're irresistible."

Orli takes the proffered mug and wraps his hands around the steaming ceramic cup. "You aren't bad yourself," he teases.

Eric pours himself a cup of the coffee, leaning against the counter as he takes a sip. He watches Orli over the rim of his mug. "It was wonderful waking up with you," he says softly.

"I'll make you a deal," Orli offers, taking a sip of coffee. "Until I make up my mind about moving in, I'll make sure and stay over at least once a week so you won't miss me too bad."

"Deal." Eric lifts his cup in agreement before taking another sip of his coffee. "How about money? You know if you need any help I can..."

Orli holds up his hand, halting Eric's sentence before he can finish. "If I need help, I'll ask. Promise."

"Promise?"

"You want me to pinky swear?" Orli laughs.

Eric grins, holding out his pinky.

Orli sets aside his coffee and links fingers with Eric, pulling him in for a kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

Orli sits in the corner of the student union nursing a cup of hot tea. He's reused the bag so many times the water is barely tinged with brown, but refills of hot water are free and if he uses his imagination he starts to believe the water quiets his hunger pangs. 

If he sits here long enough a classmate usually passes through and strikes up a conversation. He casually mentions that he left his ID card at home and can't swipe into the cafeteria. They almost always swipe him through the line without question, but today he hasn't been so lucky so he continues to sit, sipping his water and working on homework.

He comes across a passage in his lit text that reminds him of a play they studied in his global literature class. He thinks idly about looking up that play to use in his response paper but then remembers that he no longer has a shelf full of textbooks in his living room and that finding that information would mean digging through boxes of stuff stored in a closet at his friend's apartment. He sighs heavily and sits back in his chair, wondering for the millionth time if he is making the right choice.

It would be so easy to take Eric up on his offer and Orli knows that if he tried to explain to anyone that he was choosing this route when there is a mansion on Carondolet where he could have a whole wing to himself, he'd sound ludicrous. 

"It is the right choice though,” he repeats softly to himself. He knows that the only person he can count on when the chips are down is himself and he can't let his guard down even when it's the path of least resistance.

~oOo~

Eric rolls over, but instead of an armful of warm and snuggly boy - he gets a pillow and an empty spot in bed. Rubbing his eyes, he looks toward the bathroom to see the door open and the light off. He sits up in the bed, suddenly worried that Orli might have left him during the night for some reason. 

He slides out of bed, pulling on a pair of boxers before he makes his way downstairs. He looks toward the front door to see everything still and quiet as usual then walks down the hallway. Sighing softly when he sees the light in the kitchen, Eric sticks his head in the doorway and smiles when he sees Orli sitting at the table eating a sandwich. "Midnight munchies?" he asks softly as he pulls out a chair and joins him at the table.

Orli freezes, guilt washing over his face. "Sorry. I thought I could get back to bed before you woke up." The rumbling of his stomach had awoken Orli and though he already felt bad that Eric had taken him out to eat and paid for their dinner earlier, he knew this would be his best chance for free food. "I promise to brush my teeth before I come back to bed so I won't smell like peanut butter."

"I happen to like the smell of peanut butter," Eric smiles softly. "And take your time. If you eat too fast, you'll get a stomach ache." He laughs then rolls his eyes. "Heaven help me. I've turned into my mother."

"Yes mother," Orli teases. "And I'll stay out of the pool for at least an hour."

"See that you do, young man," jokes Eric as he gets up and goes to the refrigerator. "Want something to drink with that?" he asks as he pulls a bottle of water out for himself.

"Do you have any milk?" Orli asks, feeling very much like a child. He takes another bite of the sandwich, wanting to finish and stop disturbing Eric.

"Coming right up," Eric tells Orli as he reaches for a glass to pour the milk. He sets the glass in front of Orli and takes his seat again. "I forgot what it's like to be your age and get hungry at all times of the night." Eric smiles again then takes a long swallow of his water.

"I'm always hungry," Orli laughs around a mouth full of sandwich. Washing down the peanut butter with some of the milk, he pats his belly.

"I used to have a metabolism that would allow me to eat peanut butter in the middle of the night. Now it's visits to the gym three times a week." Eric chuckles as he leans over and places his hand on Orli's flat stomach. "You have a very sexy belly."

"Yours is just as sexy.” Orli grins, Eric's hand warm on his bare skin. "You don't have to go to the gym you know. I'd find you sexy no matter what."

"You'd love me even if I let myself go? If I lost my muscles and got all flabby?" Eric makes a funny face as he says the last word, leaning in closer to Orli as he jokes.

Orli slides his hand around the back of Eric's neck, pressing their foreheads together. "As long as you still love me when I don't have the smooth, nubile body of a 21-year-old any more."

"Oh no, mister. You let yourself go and you're outta here," Eric teases, reaching for Orli to pull him into his lap when it looks like he might protest what he’s just said. Orli does try to protest, but Eric quickly shuts him up with his warm embrace. 

"You'll just go out and find someone younger?" he teases.

"Could be. You know I like 'em young," Eric growls playfully as he nuzzles against the warm skin of Orli's neck.

"You'll have to switch to teaching high school if you want them much younger." Orli tilts his head back, giving Eric more access to his neck.

"How about I hold onto you for a while longer?" Eric asks as he kisses the tender spot right behind Orli's ear.

"I'd like that." Orli curls tighter into Eric's lap and wraps his arms around his lover's neck. "I'd like that a lot."

"And if I drag you upstairs and back to bed so that I can have my wicked way with you?" Eric asks in between more soft kisses to Orli's neck. 

"I'd like that a lot too." Orli molds himself to Eric's body, pressing into the kisses. "Or you could just lay me out over the table right here and fuck me 'til I see stars."

Eric moans, a decadent image of Orli flashing through his mind. Tightening his hold on Orli, he lifts him as he stands up then sets him on top of the table. "Your wish is my command," Eric tells him with a sly smile as he tugs at the waistband of Orli's boxers.

Orli leans back on his elbows and lifts his hips, letting Eric strip away his underwear. "Saves us the trip this way," Orli grins.

"Anxious for me?" Eric asks as he lets the underwear fall to the floor as he leans over Orli's delectable body laid out on the table before him.

"Always anxious for you." Orli reaches up to pull Eric even closer. "Just like you are always anxious for me."

They kiss, teasing with their tongues and stealing the breath from each other. Eric's hands glide over the warm, smooth skin of Orli's body, pulling him closer as they continue to kiss.

"Glad I had a snack. Looks like I'm gonna need the energy," Orli murmurs against Eric's lips. Sprawled out across the table, Orli is completely open to Eric's every touch, his body arching off the cool wood to press into the contact.

Eric smiles against Orli's lips as his hands take hold of his hips and pull him closer, pressing their growing arousals together with only one thin layer of cotton still separating them.

Orli slides down until his ass is along the edge of the table, trusting Eric to hold him steady. "You feel so good against me."

Pulling away to give himself enough space, Eric quickly rids himself of his own boxers then returns to his position, pressed closely against Orli. "I'll feel good inside you, too."

Wrapping his legs around Eric's waist, Orli rotates his hips to grind against Eric's cock. "Then get in there. Show me how good it can be."

"Impatient boy," Eric replies, smiling as he watches Orli moving against him. "We need supplies," he tells him as he reluctantly pulls away again, turning to rummage through a nearby kitchen drawer for a condom and a small bottle of lube. He returns to Orli, his smile widening as he lays the items on the table then reaches for his legs. Eric slips his hands behind Orli's knees and guides him to pull up his legs until his heels are resting on the edge of the table.

"You keep condoms in the kitchen? What kinda guy do you think I am?" Orli hooks his hands behind his knees and pulls them clear up to his chest.

"The kind who wants to be fucked on my table until he sees stars?" Eric asks as he kisses the inside of Orli's thigh then reaches for the lube. Eric's eyes lock with Orli's as he rubs against his opening then slides the first finger inside.

"Oh yeah...that kind," Orli moans softly as Eric breaches his body. Closing his eyes, Orli tips his head back and concentrates on relaxing his muscles.

Eric loves how playful Orli is. He also loves how responsive his young lover can be. He takes his time, slowly stretching the tight muscle then slipping another finger inside. Eric rotates and scissors his fingers, crooking them just enough to rub against Orli's prostate as he watches his face for his reaction.

Orli doesn't hide even an ounce of his emotion, letting the pleasure ripple across his face as it does his body. He moans and arches, begging with his entire body for more. Stretching Orli some more before he finally extracts his fingers, Eric reaches for the condom and quickly rolls it on before lining up and pushing his way into the tight heat of Orli's body.

"So good," Orli groans, dropping his legs to circle back around Eric's waist. His cock lies hot and hard against his stomach, twitching slightly with each push of Eric's hips. Eric takes hold of Orli's hips again to keep him from sliding back with the force of his thrusts as he sets a rapid pace, pushing deeper and harder with each one.

Orli reaches up over his head, groping blindly for the far edge of the table. Curling his fingers around the side he uses that to ground him as Eric sets an intense pace. Releasing one hand from its grip on Orli's hip, Eric wraps his fingers around his lover's cock and begins to stroke him as his own cock continues to move in and out of Orli.

It's almost too intense, but Orli doesn't want it to stop. His thighs flex, pulling Eric harder and harder against him with each snap of his hips. "So good," he murmurs over and over.

Eric growls, releasing his hold on Orli's cock as he urges his lover to roll over so that he's face down on the table. Grabbing Orli's hips again, Eric pulls him back to the edge of the table and slides his cock back into his tight hole.

Orli screams with pleasure when Eric slams into him fast and hard. Holding tight to the table he scrambles to get traction for his feet against the floor. He feels completely wanted, possessed, owned by Eric and he loves every minute of it. Pulling Orli back even more as he continues to slam into him, Eric takes hold of Orli's cock again and strokes him with the same forcefulness as his thrusts.

Orli's entire body convulses and before he even realizes, he's coming. He whimpers softly, not ready for it to be over, his body still craving Eric's closeness.

Unsure about Orli's whimpered response, Eric withdraws and reaches for him, pulling him into his arms. "You okay? Did I hurt you?"

"You made my brain melt," Orli says with a smile, his cheeks flushed scarlet from his arousal.

Eric smiles as he rubs a knuckle against the soft flush on his young lover's cheek. "I think that's one of the best compliments a lover could give me," he tells Orli as his arms tighten around him.

"Let me finish you," Orli whispers, wiggling in Eric's arms as he tries to slide down the front of his body.

"You don't have to," Eric starts to explain even as Orli removes his condom and takes his cock into the warm wetness of his mouth. "Oh, god..." Eric murmurs, his eyes drifting shut as he loses himself in the pleasure of Orli's mouth on him.

Sliding his hands around Eric's hips, Orli flattens his tongue along the under side of Eric's cock providing as much friction as he can.

Eric moans, opening his eyes again as he looks down to watch his cock disappearing between Orli's lips. The sight itself is almost enough to make him come. Orli can feel Eric's eyes on him so he looks up, staring right into Eric's eyes as he continues to suck him. Only a moment later and Eric gasps, his fingers tightening their grip on Orli's shoulder as he comes, a wordless cry erupting from deep inside.

Letting his eyes fall shut as Eric floods his mouth, Orli swallows greedily. When Eric is finally spent, Orli sits back on his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Pulling Orli back up and into his arms, Eric leans him back over the table and kisses him again until he is breathless and practically begging for air. Orli curls tightly around Eric's body, holding on for dear life as Eric steals his breath.

When he finally breaks their kiss, Eric nuzzles against the sweat damp hair on Orli's temple. "Ready for that bed now?" he asks softly before he leaves a tender kiss on Orli's cheek.

"Yes," Orli smiles, his embarrassment nearly gone now. "That is if I can make my legs work again to get up the stairs." Clinging to Eric's shoulders, he rocks up off the table and tries to stand.

"Come on," Eric smiles as he snakes an arm around Orli's waist. "Let the old man help you upstairs," he laughs teasingly as he kisses Orli again then walks with him to the staircase.

Orli doesn't let go of Eric as they head for the bedroom. He doesn't really need the assistance, but he can't pass up the opportunity to keep touching the other man. The covers are still pulled pack on the bed and they crawl under, pulling them up as they snuggle together.

Pulling Orli into his arms once again, Eric sighs happily unable to remember the last time he was this content.


	8. Chapter 8

Orli cracks open the door to the study lounge in the English department and pokes his head inside. He smiles when he finds it unoccupied, knowing that on a Friday afternoon no one is likely to disturb him if he crashes on the couch for a nap. He tucks his knapsack behind the end of the sofa furthest from the door so it's out of sight if anyone peeks in. He slips out of his hooded sweatshirt and balls it up to use as a pillow, curling up on the battered couch in the corner.

Eric can't believe that he forgot his briefcase. He unlocks the door to his office and grabs the brown leather case with a self-reproaching sigh before closing the door and locking it again. Passing the study lounge that's on the same floor as his office, he spots the open door. The dim light of a table lamp highlights the figure, stretched out on the couch and sound asleep. 

Orli?

He enters quietly to get a closer look, smiling instantly when he recognizes the peaceful face of his young lover. Kneeling beside the couch, Eric pushes a stray lock of hair away from Orli's forehead then gently kisses him.

Orli's eyes fly open when he feels Eric's kiss, startled out of his slumber by the touch. Eric's hand steadies him and he realizes who woke him up. "Hey," he smiles sleepily. "Must have dozed off while I was studying."

"Yeah? What are you studying?" asks Eric, looking around for Orli's notes or books and finding nothing. He looks back at Orli and smiles.

"You at the moment," Orli says, reaching up to touch Eric's face.

Eric's smile widens and he turns his face to kiss Orli's fingers. "It's getting late though, love. How about I give you a ride home?"

Orli's smile falters slightly but he smoothes it over, sliding his finger along Eric's lower lip. "Why don't I just come over to your house? I know it's not our regular night but if you don't have plans..."

"No plans. You know you're always welcome to come over," Eric replies. "If you're sure, that is? I don't want to interfere with your studies."

"I'm a good student, as you know," Orli says with a wink. "I think I can survive an extra night at your place."

"All right then..." Eric stands up, extending his hand to Orli. "My car's illegally parked right outside. Let's go."

Orli takes Eric's hand then leans back down and hooks his heavy bag over his shoulder. "All set," he grins, stepping toward the door.

"Here, let me take that for you," Eric says as he reaches for Orli's bag. "Damn, Orli," laughs Eric when he has to catch himself from dropping the heavy bag. "What have you got in here? Your kitchen sink?"

Orli tries to keep Eric from taking the bag but he reacts too late. "Just this and that," he says with a wave of his hand. "You know how heavy all those Lit books can get."

"Yeah. Actually I do." Eric laughs and adjusts the heavy bag. "Thought maybe you're just trying to build up your muscles by carrying them all around at the same time."

"You think I need more muscles?" Orli teases, trying to change the subject.

"Well... you are a little on the _slender_ side..." Eric tries to be diplomatic, but the fact that Orli has lost some weight over the past few weeks has bothered him.

“Just can't win tonight,” Orli mutters under his breath. "I haven't stepped foot inside the gym since I stopped working," Orli says truthfully, leaving out the fact that his gym membership cost too much to maintain. "I guess I need to start getting back in shape."

"Hey..." Eric lays his hand on Orli's arm. "That wasn't a criticism. I love your shape. Just the way it is. I was just worried that maybe you weren't eating as well as you should, that's all. I know how it gets. The studying, not to mention everything else that you've had to deal with this year."

"We need to talk." The words surprise him as they come out of his mouth, but Orli admits to himself that he can't hide forever from Eric.

Eric is startled by what Orli says. "Sure. Uh... now or..." He looks toward the door then back at Orli.

"Probably now, before I lose my nerve." Orli plops down on the couch and buries his head in his hands.

Eric exhales with a nervous chuckle as he sets Orli's bag down on the floor. "Something tells me that I'm not going to like this," he says quietly, a tightness twisting in his belly as he waits to hear whatever it is that Orli wants to talk to him about.  
Orli mulls over his story, trying to decide where to start. "I moved out of my apartment."

Eric nods then shrugs as he looks at Orli expectantly. "Okay..."

Looking pointedly at the bag at Eric's feet, Orli waits for Eric's brain to make the logical leap.

Eric follows Orli's line of vision to the heavy bag on the floor. "Orli..." He says slowly as a reluctant realization begins to form. Eric looks back up, his gaze locking with a pair of worried brown eyes.

"I knew you wouldn't agree with my decision, so I just didn't tell you. I can't keep lying to you anymore though."

Eric can't believe what he's hearing. "But what... I mean _where_?"

"Here and there," Orli says with a wave of his hand. "I keep moving."

Eric shakes his head in disbelief. He turns away from Orli, running his hand back through his hair as he tries to process what the other man has told him. "I don't understand," he murmurs.

"What part don't you understand?" Orli leans back against the couch, drawing his feet up onto the seat.

Turning around to look at Orli, the expression on Eric's face is one of hurt. "I don't understand you," he replies sadly.

"Which part of me?" Orli says holding out his hand, hoping Eric will come closer and join him on the couch.

Eric steps closer and takes Orli's hand. He'll never be able to refuse Orli when he reaches out to him, but he wishes Orli could somehow finally reach out to him in another way as well. 

"The part that won't let yourself accept the help that I've offered you."

Orli tugs on Eric's arm until he has to sit beside him and Orli leans over and rests his head on Eric's shoulder. "You already give me so much. More than I could ever hope to repay."

Pulling Orli into his lap, Eric wraps his arms around him and buries his face in the crook of Orli's neck. The muscles in his arms tremble as he resists squeezing Orli too tightly in his need to hold onto him. His need to protect him.

"I love you," Orli whispers, the words falling off his tongue with surprising ease.

Eric jerks back, staring at Orli with wide eyes. It's just like the beautiful, infuriating boy to completely disarm him this way; but the feeling that washes over him from those three small words is more than he could have ever imagined. He leans in, eyes still open, slowly closing the small distance between them as he gently presses his lips against Orli's.

Orli is startled when Eric jerks away and he wonders if he said the wrong thing. His fears ease when Eric starts to kiss him and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. The kiss begins carefully, soft and tender at first, evolving into heat and desire that has always been there between them.

"We should probably take this elsewhere," Orli murmurs when they part for air. "Last thing we need is some busybody walking in on us here. Plus…" he says with an impish grin, "I think you said your car is illegally parked. We might be walking home."

"Hopefully not," Eric chuckles softly, kissing Orli one more time before releasing him so that they can get to their feet. "Let's go home."

Orli hoists his bag onto his shoulder and wraps his arm around Eric's waist as they slip out of the lounge and down the hall.

~*O*~

Eric walks into the living room, two tall glasses of iced tea in his hand. He gives one to Orli then takes a seat beside him on the comfy couch. "Rosetta makes the best iced tea. It's addictive," he says with a smile before taking a sip of the sweet amber colored liquid.

"What does she think about the possibility of me moving in? Twice as many people to mess up the house." Orli takes a sip of the tea, agreeing with Eric's assessment.

"You know, I'm really not sure. It's always been just me. But I'm thinking that she really won't mind. Rosetta is the kind of lady that will be happy for me because she knows that I'm happy with you."

"So," Orli says, drawing out the word slightly. "We keep dancing around the topic, but I have a feeling you aren't letting me leave tonight without agreeing to move in."

"That's because you're not leaving tonight. Not if I have anything to say about it." Eric takes another sip of his tea then relaxes back into the couch. "Do you want to leave?"

"Tonight?" Orli asks, even though he knows what Eric means.

"Tonight, tomorrow night, every other night..."

"I'm willing to try it. Can you live with that for now?" Orli smiles at Eric, knowing it's not exactly what he wants to hear but hoping it's enough for now.

"Yes. I think I can. But only on one condition..." Eric's tone and expression take on a serious note, much like his "professorial" persona in the classroom.

Orli looks at him hopefully, wondering what on earth Eric plans on coming up with now.

"If you decide that you don't want to stay with me, at least let me make sure that you have somewhere safe to go to. No more living out of your bag and sacking out in study lounges, okay?"

"What? Are you gonna buy me a house or something?" Orli asks, half teasing.

"I'm serious, Orli. I just want you to be safe, that's all," Eric says quietly. The realization that Orli has been homeless had chilled him to his core.

"So let's talk about this seriously. How's it going to work if I move in? You are going to want to just pay for everything and I'm not going to want to let you. How do we keep this from being an issue for us?"

"Okay then. Seriously. What is your financial situation now that you're not working for the agency? I have this large house." Eric gestures with a wave of his hand. "This large, _completely paid for_ house, with as many rooms as you need. You staying here rent free with me would in no way be a burden so don't even try to go there. I want you here. But only if you want to be. Just don't look for excuses though, all right?"

Orli nods, knowing Eric is right. "My tuition is paid for the semester. I have some money saved up and I sold all my furniture and that kind of stuff when I moved out. One of my friends is storing the rest of my stuff for free, so other than food and transportation I don't have many expenses." Orli sets his tea aside and tucks his feet up underneath him on the couch. "If I move in here can I have my own room? I mean I'd still sleep in your bedroom if that's where you want me, but I'd still like my own space where I can study and what not."

"Of course, just pick one. There's all kind of furniture, just take what you need to make it your own, okay?" Eric smiles as he reaches out to rub his hand along Orli's arm. "I want you to feel like this is your home, too. You won't be a guest. You'll be my..." He takes a deep breath and smiles, hesitating to actually vocalize the thought that he just had. "Boyfriend," he finishes with a smile.

Orli can help but smile with Eric when he sees how happy Eric looks and he knows he made him feel that way. "Live-in boyfriend."

"Is that okay then?" Eric asks quietly.

Nodding, Orli shifts off the couch and moves over into Eric's lap. "I'm not promising everything will be great all the time, but it's something I want to try."

"And that's all I can ask. Just give it a try." Eric smiles then pulls Orli closer for a slow, tender kiss.

Orli rests his hand on Eric's cheek, exhausted from the emotional day. "You're so patient with me," he says softly in between kisses.

"It's only because I love you," murmurs Eric in between more lazy kisses. "Otherwise, I'd probably have assigned you extra homework for the entire semester. That, or put you over my knee and spanked you."

"It sounds like you have that awfully well planned out. Naughty student fetish?" he teases, working his fingers under the hem of Eric's shirt.

"With a student like you? Damn straight."

Orli plucks the half-empty glass of tea from Eric's fingers and sets it aside. "I'm a good student, not a naughty one," he says as he resumes teasing his fingers against Eric's skin.

"Not even a little bit naughty?" Eric akss with a playful grin as his hands begin to do some exploring of their own, slipping beneath Orli's shirt.

"I'm an angel." Orli feels so safe and comfortable right now with their slow exploration and teasing, unlike anything he's ever experienced.

"That you are. My angel Orli," whispers Eric, pulling him close and kissing him again.

~*O*~*O*~

Eric hurries down the stairs, his shoes in one hand and his tie in the other. Dropping the shoes on the floor, he slips his feet into them as he wraps the tie around his neck and heads toward the kitchen. 

"Hey," he says in greeting, kissing Orli on the temple as the other man slathers cream cheese on a poppy seed bagel. "Missed you this morning. Cramming for your final today?" asks Eric as he opens the refrigerator and pulls out the carton of orange juice.

"Right up to the last minute," Orli smiles, stepping aside to show his book open on the counter next to his breakfast. After Eric pours his juice, Orli hands him half his bagel and lets Eric munch away while he deftly knots Eric's tie just so.

"One more day," Eric mumbles around his mouthful of bagel. He finishes chewing and gives Orli another quick kiss for taking care of his tie. "What do you say to a week in bed after we're all finished? No books, no papers. Just you and me."

"I think you can convince me of the merits of that plan." Orli reaches up and wipes a stray bit of cream cheese off Eric's cheek.

"Good luck with your test today. I know you're going to do great," Eric says confidently.

"Thanks. Haven't slept for a week, so knowing me I'll crash right in the middle of the exam," Orli laughs, mostly teasing.

Eric takes the last bite of his bagel and finishes his juice. "Hey handsome, how about a ride to class?" he asks as he puts his glass in the sink.

"Sounds good to me." Orli collects his books and shoves them in his backpack along with another bagel to eat in the car. "I'm ready when you are."

Eric grabs his briefcase and smiles, completely content to know that at the end of their busy day, they will be right back here. Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a sequel to this story - Extra Credit.


End file.
